OLD 
SQUIRE 


==*  D  l^       ^P* 
S  D.IV.      7 

BENSON 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


MACMILLAN'S      STANDARD      LIBRARY 


OLD    SQUIRE 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  BLACK  VIRGINIAN 


OLD    SQUIRE 


THE    ROMANCE    OF    A    BLACK    VIRGINIAN 


BY 


B.    K.    BENSON 
^, 

AUTHOR  OF  "WHO  GOES   THKRK  ?  "    "A   FRIEND  WITH   THB 
COUNTERSIGN,"    "  BAYAKO'S  COURIER,"    «TC. 


NEW  YORK 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 
PUBLISHERS 


COPTBWHT,    1908, 

BT  THE  MACMILLAN   COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  April,  1903.     Reprinted 
April,  1909. 


XorfaooB  Jprrss 

J.  8.  Cushlng  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


Not  to  fcefenti  slaberg  —  but  to  too 
justice  to  slabes 


NOTE 

WHEREIN  this  book  departs  from  history,  characters 
are  affected  rather  than  events. 

Historically,  the  negro  Barney  —  a  fictitious  name  — 
must  be  considered  only  as  the  guide  of  the  Union  column 
in  February-March,  1864;  the  actions  ascribed  to  him 
before  that  time  are  purely  inventional;  in  respect  to 
these  actions  he  is  but  a  type  differing  from  that  which 
the  main  character  shows;  in  other  words,  Barney  is  a 
foil  to  "Old  Squire." 

B.  K.  B. 


vii 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  FAG» 

I.    FORWARD  AND  BACKWARD 1 

II.    A  LAST  RESORT 13 

in.    SANCTUARY 29 

IV.    A  SONG  SIGNAL 42 

V.    DELINQUENCY 54 

VI.    DEEP  WATER 68 

VII.    A  LIVE  PUZZLE 80 

VIII.    DAHLGREN 91 

IX.  A  CASE  OF  KNOWING        .        .'               .        .        .  109 

X.    SOLUTION 122 

XL    APART 131 

XII.    AWAITING  THE  VERDICT 144 

XIII.  BARNEY 148 

XIV.  THE  MEETING 163 

XV.    O'DONNELL'S  PRISONERS 181 

XVI.     UNSTABLE  AS  WATER 196 

XVII.    WAYS  CONVERGING 213 

XVIII.    BACK  TOWARD  LOUDOUN 226 

XIX.    IN  THE  MOUNTAINS 240 

XX.    A  HOME-COMING 259 

XXI.     THE  PORTENT  DEFLECTED 277 

XXII.     ARMED  NEUTRALITY 299 

a. 


X  CONTENTS 

OHAITXB  PAGK 

XXIII.  THE  PARTISANS         .        .       .        .        .        .        .312 

XXIV.  THE  RETREAT    .        . 325 

XXV.    A  FLASK  FOR  Two 337 

XXVI.    FOR  LIFE  AND  LOVE      >  «  y 349 

XXVIL    ONE  WAY  TO  SWAP  HORSES 365 

XXVIII.    IN  THE  NICK  OF  TIME 379 

XXIX.    THE  FIVE  HUNDRED 389 

XXX.    WHERE  GLORY  LED 408 

XXXI.  FATE'S  DISCHARGES  .        .        .        .        .        .        .420 

XXXII.  No  GREATER  LOVE  .                                                 ,    427 


MAPS 

1.  GETTYSBURG  CAMPAIGN         . 141 

2.  UP  THE  RAPPAHANNOCK 373 

3.  NORTHEASTERN  VIRGINIA ,  403 


OLD   SQUIRE 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  BLACK  VIRGINIAN 


OLD  SQUIRE 

CHAPTER  I 

FORWARD   AND   BACKWARD 

"  Of  many  worthy  fellows  that  were  out."  —  SHAKESPEARE. 

A  GROUP  of  horsemen  had  come  out  of  the  Ashby  pike, 
and  were  making  their  way  toward  Hopewell  Gap  in  the 
Bull  Run  Mountains.  A  dweller  at  a  distance  from 
the  road  counted  four  men,  and  said  that  they  were 
Confederate  cavalrymen  trying  to  rejoin  Stuart's  column, 
which  had  passed  on  a  road  farther  south  many  hours 
previously  ;  and  he  was  correct  in  regard  to  numbers 
and  purpose,  though  only  three  parts  right  in  his 
classification. 

"  Mahs  Chahley,  how  come  you  don't  tek  up  yo'  geahth  ? 
Dat  saddle  dess  a-fixin'  to  th'ow  you  —  dat  it  is.  Ef  you 
dess  wait  a  minute  I's  a-gwine  to  git  righ'  down  an' 
tighten  dat  geahth,  feh  de  good  book  hit  say  tek  heed 
least  ye  fall." 

"  All  right,  Squire  .  .  .  Boys,  don't  halt ;  I'll  catch 
up  with  you  in  no  time."  And  Charley  Armstrong  drew 
rein,  and  flung  his  left  boot  across  his  horse's  neck. 

"  Not  too  tight  now,  Squire.  Remember  there's  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  pounds  on  this  saddle." 


2  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Dat  de  troof,  Mahs  Chahley  ;  dat  w'at  mek  him  ben' 
so  in  de  middle,  an'  git  jo'  geahth  so  loose  ;  you  mek  two 
o'  ole  Squiah,  feh  sho'.  I'll  dess  tek  it  up  a  leetle  bit," 
muttered  the  negro,  who  had  dismounted  and  now  had  his 
white  head  almost  under  the  horse's  belly.  "Hit's  de 
Gawd's  troof,  Mahs  Chahley  ;  dis  is  a  good  hoss,  but  he 
so  nahrow  in  de  innahds  of  'im  dat  it  tek  a  mighty  shawt 
geahth  to  retch  roun'  —  dat  it  do  ;  but  I  'spec'  he  kin  run 
feh  who  las'  de  longes'.  Whah  did  Mahs  Dan  git  dese 
bosses  ?  " 

"  They're  his  carriage  team  ;  .  .  .  going  to  ride  the 
other  himself ;  .  .  .  bought  cheaper  ones  to  send  away 
the  folks." 

"  Yassah  ;  I  done  heahd  about  dat,  but  whahbouts  was 
de  critteh  raised,  Mahs  Chahley  ?  " 

"Down  on  Morgan's  place  in  Augusta  County,  I  sup- 
pose, where  he's  got  plenty  more.  Good  Lord,  I  do  hope 
our  folks  will  be  safe  there." 

"  Yassah ;  hit's  de  Gawd's  blessin',  too.  Wen  I  tole 
Judy  good-by  aw'ile  ago  I's  mighty  proud  'at  she  gwine 
whah  she  be  safe,  an'  not  be  'bleege'  to  run  f'om  dem 
mise'ble  Yankees  no  mo'e  —  dat  I  is.  Who  dat  a-comin' 
yandeh  th'ough  de  fiel'  ?  " 

Armstrong  looked  to  his  weapons,  for  at  the  north, 
riding  rapidly,  in  a  course  evidently  calculated  for  cutting 
off  their  march,  was  a  single  horseman. 

"  I  'spec'  he's  one  o'  ouah  men,"  said  Squire,  doubtfully. 

"  I  don't  know.  That  don't  look  like  a  Confederate 
horse." 

"  Yassah,  but  some  o'  ouah  men  is  got  good  bosses,  Mahs 


FORWARD  AND  BACKWARD  8 

Chahley,  an'  den  ag'in  I  dunno  w'at  dess  one  Yankee'd  be 
a-doin'  out  sheah  by  hese'f  all  alone  ;  he  betteh  be  a-gittin' 
fuddeh,  feh  all  de  res'  of  'em  is  done  gawn,  an'  I  wisht  'at 
dey'd  stay  gawn,  too  —  dat  I  does.  I  tell  you  who  dat  is  ; 
he  Mahs  Usheh  Wes',  —  yah,  yah,  Mahs  Chahley,  you 
dunno  him?  —  I  mighty  s'prised  at  shu,  Mahs  Chahley, 
feh  not  knowin'  Mahs  Usheh  !  "  and  the  old  negro's  mouth 
twinkled  still.  "  But  I  dess  tell  you,  honey,  dem  Mosby 
men  izh  sho'  got  good  bosses  —  dat  dey  is." 

The  horseman  shouted,  and  Armstrong  replied  to  a 
voice  which  he  recognized. 

"  Hit's  Mahs  Usheh,  dess  lak  I  tole  you  he  wus,"  said 
Squire. 

"  Why,  hello,  Usher  !     Thought  you'd  given  it  up  !  " 

"  I've  decided  to  go  as  far  as  Haymarket,"  said  the 
horseman,  reining  in  ;  "  the  major  went  last  night  though, 
and  I'm  afraid  I  won't  catch  him." 

Usher  West  was  of  some  twenty -eight  or  thirty  years 
of  age,  of  medium  size,  and  fair  complexion,  with  a  short 
sandy  beard  on  lip,  cheek,  and  chin  ;  his  dress,  unlike 
Armstrong's  dirty  gray  uniform,  was  that  of  the  rural 
civilian  ;  he  looked  the  average  son  of  the  average  farmer, 
mounted  upon  a  sleek  bay  which,  however,  showed  no  sign 
of  farm  work.  The  man  was  without  arms,  so  far  as 
could  be  seen,  and  none  of  his  appointments  in  dress  or 
in  trappings  indicated  military  intention.  He  was  a 
typical  "  Mosby's  man  "  —  a  member  of  the  band  of  parti- 
san rangers  that  gathered  at  the  call  of  their  leader  to 
swoop  down  upon  the  Federal  outposts  at  night,  —  by  day 
to  scatter  and  return  to  their  homes. 


4  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  You'll  never  catch  Mosby,  Usher.     Better  try  it  with 

u«/" 

"  Think  too  much  of  myself.  What's  become  of  Sency 
and  Joe?  I  saw 'em  back  yonder." 

"  On  ahead,"  returned  Armstrong,  waving  his  hand 
toward  the  east.  "  And  Morgan  is  coming  too.  How  are 
all  at  home  this  morning  ?  " 

"  All  well,  thank  you.  But  how  do  you  expect  Morgan 
to  catch  you?"  and  West's  tone  conveyed  implication 
that  Morgan  had  a  difficult  task  before  him. 

"  He's  going  to  cut  across  and  head  us  off  before  we 
reach  the  river." 

"  Pretty  big  risk.     How  is  his  brother  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  ;  there's  a  chance  that  he'll  pull 
through,  and  we're  hoping  to  get  some  Yankee  surgeon  to 
come  for  him." 

"Good  idea.  They  can  do  him  more  good  than  we 
can,"  responded  West,  in  a  matter-of-fact  way. 

"  Yes,  and  not  only  that ;  our  folks  are  leaving,  and 
can't  take  him;  he  couldn't  stand  it." 

"  So  I  heard.  .  .  .     When  do  they  leave  ?  " 

"  Just  as  soon  as  they  can  get  Dan's  brother  off ;  to- 
morrow, I  hope." 

"Charley,  would  you  have  believed  that  two  people 
could  look  so  much  alike  ?  When  I  first  saw  that  Yankee, 
lying  there  almost  dead,  I  pledge  you  my  word  I  thought 
he  was  Dan  himself." 

"  I  reckon  you  did.  I  saw  Andrew  more  than  once  and 
could  have  sworn  he  was  Dan,"  cried  Armstrong,  bring- 
ing his  hand  down  on  his  thigh  with  a  great  slap. 


FORWARD   AND   BACKWARD  6 

"  Andrew  ?  I  heard  the  Yank's  name  was  Dan,  too  ; 
but  I  didn't  believe  it." 

"  Well,  it  was  ;  but  his  right  name  is  Andrew,  I  tell 
you." 

"  I  don't  know  what  in  the  name  o'  sense  you  mean," 
and  West's  voice  contained  as  great  wonder  as  was  spoken 
by  his  words. 

"  Well,  it  was  this  way :  there  were  twin  boys ;  you 
couldn't  tell  'em  apart.  And  now  that  they  are  men,  you 
can't  tell  'era  apart.  Can  you,  Squire  ?  " 

"  No,  sah.  Can't  nobody  tell  'em  apaht  w'en  dey  ain't 
togeatheh,  'scusin'  hit  be  ole  Juno." 

"  When  they  were  about  three  years  old,  a  man  comes 
along  ;  you  see  their  parents  were  dead  and  their  uncle 
had  'em ;  when  they  were  three  years  old  a  man  comes 
along,  and  to  save  your  life  you  can't  guess  what  his  name 
was!" 

"  Morgan  ?  "  cried  West. 

"His  name  was  Daniel  Morgan." 

"  Well,  that's  nothing  strange.  I  know  three  men  by 
that  name,  myself." 

"  Yes,  maybe  you  do ;  but  this  one  was  a  rich  old  fellow 
who  took  a  fancy  to  little  Dan  and  adopted  him.  But 
after  all,  he  got  the  wrong  one." 

"  And  got  mad  about  it  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Knew  nothin'  about  it.    Never  did  know.    He's  dead." 

"  Well,  but  didn't  his  uncle  know  ?  " 

"No  —  thought  old  man  Morgan  had  taken  Dan,  and 
old  man  Morgan  he  carried  Andy  away,  thinkin'  he  was 
Dan  ;  of  course  it  was  all  the  same  to  him  ;  he  raised  him 


6  OLD  SQUIRE 

and  he  went  by  the  name  of  Daniel;  so  now  you  have  two 
Daniel  Morgans,  twin  brothers,  just  alike.  How  does  that 
strike  you  ?  " 

"  Sounds  like  a  book,  doesn't  it,  Squire  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  hit  do  f  eh  true,  Mahs  Usheh  ;  hit  soun'  lak  de 
good  book,  w'at  say  de  fust  gwine  to  be  de  las'  an'  de  las' 
hit  gwine  to  be  de  fust,"  the  old  man  quoted  with  due 
solemnity. 

"  Yes,  but  hold  on.  How  could  there  be  two  Dans  ? 
Didn't  you  say  his  uncle  thought  his  boy  was  Andrew?  " 

"  Well,  you  see  old  man  Morgan  he  lived  in  New  York. 
Now,  Mr.  Berry  —  that's  Dan's  uncle  that  raised  him  — 
never  could  get  a  word  from  old  man  Morgan,  and  then  he 
thought  he'd  change  his  boy's  name  to  Dan,  because  they 
wanted  the  name  to  last,  don't  you  see  ?  " 

"Oh,  Lord,  Armstrong,  that's  too  deep  for  me. 
Which  is  the  right  one  now  ?  " 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Berry,  you  know,  she  was  the  one  that 
knew  all  the  time  ;  she  let  Andy  go  instead  of  Dan,  and 
you  can  swear  she  kept  mighty  mum." 

44  And  she  told  at  last  ?  " 

44  When  she  couldn't  hold  in,  she  did.  But  you  know 
Andy  never  knew  any  better,  and  so  he  went  into  the 
Yankee  army." 

44  Yes ;  and  he  was  shot  in  last  Sunday's  fight,  and  your 
folks  took  him  into  the  house,  and  I  know  all  the  rest  of 
it." 

They  had  come  to  a  halt  where  a  narrow  lane,  running 
south,  left  the  main  road. 

44  Good -by,  Charley,"  said  Usher;  44  this  is  my  way  to  go 


FORWARD  AND  BACKWARD  7 

if  ever  I  can  reach  Mosby;  but  I  tell  you  now,  I'm  not 
going  farther  than  Haymarket.  If  I  can  learn  nothing 
there,  I'm  coming  back  home." 

"  You  know  all  of  Lee's  infantry  have  crossed  long  ago, 
and  it'll  be  all  we  can  do  to  catch  Stuart  before  he  goes 
over.  Come  with  ws,  Usher."  Armstrong  said  the 
words  earnestly  ;  there  was  but  one  man  for  whom  he  had 
greater  good-will  —  Usher's  father  himself. 

"  No ;  can't  do  that.  Wish  I  could,  though.  Like  to 
be  with  you  all  again.  Regards  to  Sency  and  Joe.  Good- 
by  and  good  luck  to  you,  old  man,"  and  Usher  West  rode 
off  upon  the  narrow  lane,  while  Squire  with  his  young 
master  continued  to  follow  their  advance,  who  had  already 
outstripped  them  so  far  as  to  reach  the  Aldie  pike,  having 
taking  a  road  running  northeastward. 

"  Dat  yotheth  hoss  w'at  Mahs  Dan  kep'  feh  hese'f,  he  de 
pie  print  o'  dis  un  you's  on,  Mahs  Chahley." 

Armstrong  was  silent ;  his  thought  was  elsewhere. 
Last  night  he  had  seen  Jennie  West,  and  though  his 
urgent  love-making  had  met  with  little  success,  her  refusal 
had  not  been  such  as  to  make  him  despair.  There  is  a 
time  for  all  things  :  a  time  when  hqpe  refuses  to  go  ;  a 
time  when  an  intonation  will  destroy  it.  Armstrong  was 
a  man  of  immense  vitality,  yet  one  of  those  men  whose 
spirits  are  acted  upon  without  apparent  causes  —  a  man 
who  at  the  bending  of  a  straw  would  feel  elation  or  mis- 
ery, according  to  the  degree  or  direction  of  the  slant. 
Jennie  had  indeed  meant  to  refuse  definitively,  but  the 
girl  had  so  disliked  to  grieve  that  the  mere  trembling  of 
her  voice  had  given  encouragement. 


8  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  How  you  gwine  to  tell  dezhe  yeah  bosses  apaht,  Mahs 
Chahley  ?  "  asked  Squire  from  the  rear.  "  Dey  mus'  be 
twin  brothehs,  des  lak  Mahs  Dan  an'  dat  yotheh  Mahs 
Dan  w'at  we  thought  wus  Mahs  Dan  hese'f." 

"Oh,  no,  Squire;  the  horses  are  very  different — -pretty 
good  matches  for  a  carriage  team,  though.  What's  be- 
come of  Joe  and  George  ?  They  must  have  turned 
off." 

"  Yassah ;  dey  done  tuhned  off  up  de  yotheh  road  dat 
runs  to  de  ribeh.  I  'spec'  dey  sees  Ginnle  Stuaht's  tracks 
is  done  tuhned  off  up  dat  a- way." 

Joe  Lewis  and  George  Sency  had  not  turned  off ;  they 
had  ridden  on  southeastward,  Lewis  merely  dropping  a 
green  sprig  in  the  fork.  "They'll  know  that's  the  way 
for  'em  to  go,"  said  he  ;  "  they  know  it  anyhow,  without 
tellin'." 

"  Half  a  mile  will  do,"  said  Sency. 

"  Yes,  an'  maybe  less'n  that ;  from  the  top  o'  that  hill 
yonder  I'm  a-thinkin'  we  can  see  fur  enough.  But  what's 
the  use  for  you  to  go  at  all,  George  ?  Might  as  well  save 
your  hoss  an'  wait  till  I  git  back." 

"No,"  said  Sency;  "I'll  go  with  you." 

"Tell  you  what,  George,  I  hate  leavin'  Morgan  back 
yonder  to  come  on  by  himself." 

"  Yes,  so  do  I ;  but  nothing  else  would  satisfy  him.  I 
hope  he'll  overtake  us  before  we  cross  the  Potomac  ;  he'll 
be  in  great  danger  unless  he  can  fall  in  with  some  party  or 
other." 

"  He's  boun'  to  ketch  us  to-morrow  if  he  gits  his  busi- 
ness in  shape  so  he  can  make  a  start ;  but,  George,  I'm 


FORWARD  AND  BACKWARD  & 

a-thinkin'  that  brother  o'  his'll  never  git  well ;  he  looks 
middlin'  weak  to  me." 

Sency  replied  with  a  nod.  He  was  a  slight  fellow, 
thoughtful,  earnest,  almost  intense.  This  was  Sergeant 
Morgan's  most  valued  friend,  a  discreet  and  upon  neces- 
sity a  daring  man,  one  who  could  think  for  the  best  and 
would  act  regardless  of  danger.  The  other  man,  Lewis, 
was  older,  and  far  more  formidable  to  look  at,  yet  he  had 
the  air  of  relying  on  his  comrade's  judgment ;  both  were 
veterans  in  service. 

"An'  then  to  think  that  he  ain't  able  to  talk.  By 
George  !  It's  the  strangest  case  I  ever  heard  tell  of. 
There  was  this  Dan  Morgan  in  the  Yankee  army,  an'  our 
Dan  Morgan  in  our  army,  an'  nary  one  a-knowin'  about 
the  other.  You  believe  they've  got  the  thing  straight 
now,  George  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  Mrs.  Berry  knew  all  about  the  twins,  and 
knew  when  they  were  separated.  The  other  one's  name 
is  Andy,  she  says  ;  but  I  don't  suppose  he  knows  it  yet." 

"  It  beats  my  times  !  .  .  .  That  old  man  Morgan  that 
took  Andy  and  called  him  Dan  must  ha'  been  a  queer  old 
case." 

Sency  looked  grave,  and  more  ;  a  sudden  cloud  had 
overspread  his  features,  an  expression  caused  by  tense 
concentration  of  his  perceptive  powers  upon  a  single 
point.  "What  is  it,  George  ?  "  asked  Lewis,  who  had  not 
been  unobservant  of  the  change. 

Sency  seized  Lewis's  bridle,  and  led  to  the  left,  where 
thick  bushes  skirted  the  roadside.  Hardly  had  they 
reached  the  sheltering  thickets  when  hoof-beats  became 


10  OLD  SQUIRE 

distinct  .  .  .  another  moment  and  the  noise  had  swelled 
and  they  knew  that  cavalry  were  advancing  west. 
They  dismounted  ;  each  held  his  horse's  mouth.  Now,  in 
the  road,  the  sunlight  fell  on  blue  uniforms  and  bright 
metal,  and  the  steady  rolling  mutter  of  many  hoofs  was 
pierced  by  higher  irregular  notes  as  the  nearing  column 
came  —  iron  striking  stone;  scabbard  clanking;  and  then, 
filling  the  road,  there  passed  westward  a  company  of 
Federal  cavalry,  with  a  large  forage  wagon  and  an  ambu- 
lance, followed  by  a  strong  rear-guard. 

Sency  had  waited  until  the  last  man  was  out  of  earshot; 
then  he  signalled,  and  the  two  rode  through  forest  and 
field  northwestwardly. 

Meantime,  Armstrong  and  Squire  had  reached  the 
branch  road. 

"  Dat's  dess  whah  dey  gawn  to,  Mahs  Chahley  ;  dat 
bresh  hit's  a-pintin'  to  us  to  tek  dat  fawk." 

"  Yes,  but  I  don't  think  they've  taken  it." 

"  No,  no,  sah.  Dey's  gawn  down  de  road  a  piece  to  see 
ef  de's  any  trouble  down  dat  a-way.  But  shu'll  see  'em 
a-comin'  awn  behime  us  toreckly.  Dey  done  tole  us  wi' 
dat  bresh  which  a-way  dey's  a-gwine  to  go." 

"We'd  better  go  slow,  Squire,  until  they  overtake  us." 

Suiting  action  to  word  they  brought  their  horses  to  a 
slow  walk,  and  at  times  halted  and  looked  back.  Arm- 
strong was  not  without  fear,  however,  that  his  comrades 
had  passed  on,  and  was  about  to  quicken  his  pace  when 
he  heard  hoofs  in  his  rear. 

"There  they  are  at  last,  Squire,"  he  said,  without 
turning. 


FORWARD   AND  BACKWARD  11 

But  the  negro  had  turned,  and  had  seen  ;  in  an  instant 
he  turned  again,  and  gave  his  horse  the  spur.  "  Run, 
Mahs  Chahley  !  "  he  cried,  as  he  forged  momentarily  past 
the  long  bay;  and  as  Armstrong  caught  the  word,  he,  too, 
pressed  on. 

A  shot  whistled  over  their  heads,  but  there  was  no 
pursuit.  The  Federals,  while  passing  the  mouth  of  the 
branch  road,  had  seen  horsemen  whose  flight  advertised 
their  colour  and  tendency,  and  without  orders  Private 
O'Donnell  had  let  drive  with  his  carbine,  for  which  act  he 
was  not  only  sternly  reprimanded  by  his  captain,  but 
ordered  to  do  double  vedette  duty  —  the  command  was 
on  special  service  and  must  not  be  diverted  by  small 
causes. 

Old  Squire  and  his  young  master  had  made  but  half 
a  mile  when  they  saw  Sency  and  Lewis  waiting  for 
them. 

"They  took  a  crack  at  you,  did  they,  Squire?"  asks 
Joe. 

"  Yassah,  but  ole  Squiah  still  stickin'  togeatheh,  sah. 
Dey  was  a  whole  roadful  of  'em,  sah." 

"  Did  you  see  them  ?  "  asked  Armstrong. 

"  Saw  a  whole  company,"  Lewis  replied. 

"Armstrong,"  said  Sency,  "somebody  ought  to  go 
back.  Very  likely  those  people  are  bound  for  Middleburg, 
and  Morgan  ought  to  be  warned." 

"  Well,  let's  all  go  back  then." 

"  No ;  I  don't  think  that's  the  best  way.  One  man  can 
manage  it  better  than  four." 

"Then  I'm  the  man,  George." 


12  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  No,  Armstrong ;  we'd  better  —  "  and  Sency  paused, 
having  barely  glanced  at  Squire. 

"  Yassah,"  said  the  old  man,  interpreting;  "you  is  dess 
right,  Mahs  Jawge ;  ole  Squiah  kin  go  back,  an'  nobody '11 
nuweh  know  nothin'  about  it ;  dey  won't  nobody  pay  no 
'tention  to  ole  Squiah.  You  dess  let  ole  Squiah  alone  feh 
dat." 

"  He's  right,"  said  Armstrong. 

It  was  arranged  that  the  negro  should  return  at  once  to 
the  Armstrong  place,  and  secretly  inform  the  Confederate 
soldier  there  of  the  advance  of  the  Federal  cavalry. 
Meantime,  the  three  were  to  continue  their  march  slowly, 
in  the  hope  that  Morgan  and  Squire  would  overtake  them 
before  the  Potomac  should  be  reached. 


CHAPTER  II 

A  LAST   RESORT 

"  Abhonon.     Do  you  call,  sir  ? 
Provost.        Here's  a  fellow  will  help  you." 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

CAPTAIN  ROBERTUS  L.  K.  FREEMAN  had  been  ordered 
to  march  his  company  from  Fairfax  Court-House,  through 
Aldie,  into  Loudoun  Valley.  The  orders  given  to  Captain 
Freeman  were  specific. 

First,  he  must  learn  whether  on  the  Ashby's  Gap  turn- 
pike, west  of  Aldie  as  far  as  Goose  Creek,  there  was  any 
considerable  force  of  the  enemy.  This  order  was  conse- 
quent upon  ignorance  of  the  position  and  movements  of 
the  Confederate  cavalry  under  Stuart.  Swell's  corps  was 
in  Pennsylvania,  while  Hill's  and  Longstreet's  were  in 
Maryland,  with  Hooker  moving  at  their  right.  Stuart 
had  begun  his  ride  between  the  Federal  army  and  Bal- 
timore, but  had  only  begun  it,  so  that  no  Federal 
authority  knew  the  magnitude  of  the  movement.  On 
the  preceding  night  Stuart  had  passed  through  Glasscock 
Gap  eastwardly,  and  beyond  the  Occoquan  would  turn 
toward  the  Potomac  to  strike  Hooker's  communications. 

According  to  the  second  order,  Captain  Freeman  must 
proceed  to  the  ground  near  Middleburg  (avoiding  Middle- 

13 


14  OLD  SQUIBE 

burg  if  possible  and  necessary),  where  the  cavalry  action 
of  June  21  had  been  fought,  and  endeavour  to  give 
relief  to  any  wounded  Federals  who  might  be  found 
there  ;  particularly  was  he  to  learn  the  fate  of  Lieutenant 
Daniel  Morgan,  of  General  Pleasonton's  staff,  who  had 
been  missing  since  the  day  of  the  battle,  and  to  leave 
nothing  undone  for  his  relief  in  case  he  was  still  alive  — 
otherwise  to  bring  off  his  body  if  it  could  be  found.  Dr. 
Lacy,  a  surgeon,  of  mature  age,  accomplished  and  peculiar, 
accompanied  the  expedition. 

The  orders  required  celerity  and  alertness ;  precautions 
must  be  taken  against  the  possibility  of  being  surprised 
by  guerillas  ;  if  any  of  the  enemy's  forces  were  in  the 
country,  they  were  to  be  avoided. 

Nothing  worthy  narration  occurred  on  the  outward 
march:  true,  as  already  told,  one  or  two  horsemen — 
rebel  cavalrymen,  or  perhaps  guerillas  —  were  seen  and 
fired  on  as  the  column  approached  the  mountain,  but  these 
men  had  fled  at  once,  and  the  command  had  moved  on,  a 
strong  rear-guard  preserving  the  distance  of  four  hundred 
yards. 

At  noon  the  column  halted,  the  horses  were  fed,  and  the 
officers'  mess  assembled. 

"  Wonder  where  Lacy  is  now?"  growled  the  captain. 

"  Formulating  a  syllogism,  and  too  deep  in  thought  to 
eat,"  suggested  Lieutenant  Brock,  a  sprightly,  dark  man 
of  thirty. 

Captain  Freeman  laughed.  "You  know  very  well, 
Brock,"  said  he,  "  that  Lacy  and  I  are  old  friends,  and  it 
wouldn't  do  for  anybody  to  speak  harshly  of  him  in  my 


A  LAST  RESORT  15 

presence ;  but  I  must  admit  that  for  a  man  of  good  hard 
sense  he  is  the  damnedest  fool  I  ever  saw.  Somebody  call 
him  up." 

Before  Lacy  appeared  the  meal  was  half  over.  He  was 
a  long  man,  with  an  emphatic  stoop  that  suggested  a  desk 
rather  than  a  saddle  —  iron-gray  side  whiskers  —  specta- 
cles— foot-gear  No.  11,  and  hands  to  match — directly 
the  opposite  of  Freeman — fair,  fat,  and  fiery,  who  shouted, 
"  Better  hurry,  Doc  ;  hardly  anything  left  for  you  !  " 

The  officers  were  around  a  gum-blanket  spread  upon  the 
grass.  Lacy  came  up  and  squatted  Turk  fashion  between 
the  two  lieutenants. 

"What  have  you  been  driving  at,  old  man?"  asked 
Freeman. 

"O-o-oh,  nothing  of  consequence,"  drawled  the  doctor. 
"  Yet  it  is  very  unfortunate  in  this  great  crisis  that  there 
should  be  differences  of  opinion.  Now,  there's  my 
driver  ;  he  insists  that  Hooker  ought  to  move  into  the 
Valley,  and  try  to  take  Lee  by  the  tail,  as  he  expresses  it." 

"  What  do  you  trouble  your  head  about  that  for?  Was 
he  arguing  with  you  ?  " 

"  No,  with  Tomlinson ;  but  I  couldn't  help  hearing,  and 
I  feld  id  by  dudy  do  zed  de  mad  righd,"  mumbled  Lacy, 
his  mouth  too  full  for  distinct  utterance. 

"  And  you  convinced  him  ;  I'll  bet  my  boots  on  that.  " 

"  Yes  ;  he  gave  it  up." 

"  I  knew  it,"  and  Freeman  winked  furtively  at  Brock, 
who  was  biting  his  lip  to  preserve  gravity. 

"  But,  Doctor,"  said  the  second  lieutenant,  a  very 
youthful  soldier,  unfamiliar  with  the  surgeon's  ways,  and 


16  OLD  SQUIRE 

unheedful  of  Captain  Freeman's  warning  signal ;  "  but, 
Doctor,  there  are  good  critics  who  think  Hooker's  policy 
is  just  what  your  driver  suggested." 

The  surgeon's  reply  was  not  immediate,  adequate  in- 
tonation being  at  the  moment  impracticable.  "  G-ood 
critics,  you  say,  sir?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Be  good  enough  to  name  one." 

"  Oh,  Doc,  let  up  !  "  exclaimed  Freeman,  who  detested 
argument ;  "  let  every  man  think  as  he  will.  And  it's 
high  time  we  were  on  the  road  again,"  he  added,  rising. 

The  march  continued,  more  and  more  cautiously  as 
the  evening  closed.  When  the  company  again  halted  it 
was  already  night,  and  preparations  were  made  for  the 
bivouac,  strong  pickets  being  posted  in  every  avenue  of 

approach. 

******* 

Three  officers  were  on  their  blankets  under  a  great  tree. 

"  We're  not  far  from  the  battle-ground,  Captain,"  said 
Lieutenant  Brock. 

"  Yes  ;  I  think  we're  already  on  part  of  it,  and  I  can't 
say  that  I  greatly  relish  the  duty  we're  on.  Of  course, 
it's  all  right  to  send  us  on  a  scout  over  here  on  this  side 
of  the  mountain,  and  it's  all  right  to  give  help  to  our 
wounded  if  we  can  find  them,  and  I  daresay  it's  all  right 
to  look  for  Lieutenant  Morgan  ;  but  what  I  suspect  is  that 
the  last  order  is  really  the  first  in  importance,  at  least  in 
the  mind  of  General  Stahel,  and  I'd  prefer  being  told  so 
directly.  However,  I'm  not  grumbling  with  the  orders, 
and  I'm  going  to  obey  to  the  letter,  if  possible." 


A  LAST  RESORT  17 

"They  say  General  Stahel  is  to  be  relieved,"  said 
Lieutenant  Brock. 

"  Yes  ;  the  cavalry  of  the  Washington  Department  is 
to  form  a  division  under  Kilpatrick." 

"  Where  are  we  to  find  them  when  we  get  through 
with  this  job,  Captain  ?  " 

"  North  of  the  Potomac  —  about  Frederick,  I  suppose  ; 
they  are  to  cross  at  once — perhaps  they've  already  crossed." 

"  And  what's  to  be  done  for  Stahel  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he'll  land  on  his  feet ;  there  is  a  rumour  that 
he's  in  demand  to  help  organize  the  Pennsylvania  Re- 
serves ;  but  I  don't  know  how  true  it  is.  At  any  rate, 
when  we  get  back  we'll  be  under  Kilpatrick." 

"  And  are  we  all  that  are  left  here  in  Virginia? " 

"  I  believe  Lowell's  scouts  are  somewhere  about ;  but 
the  division  has  gone,  and  we'd  have  gone  too  but  for 
this  bad  business  about  General  Pleasonton's  aide." 

"Morgan  seems  to  be  thought  very  important,  sir." 

"  Yes  ;  promoted  for  good  conduct  recently  ;  don't 
suppose  he  knows  it  yet.  I  fancy  he  has  powerful 
friends  at  headquarters,  if  not  in  Washington.  They 
say  he  is  very  rich.  Ever  know  him,  Brock  ?  " 

"  No,  not  at  all,"  said  the  lieutenant ;  "  I  know,  how- 
ever, that  the  extensive  preparation  Lacy  was  required  to 
make,  indicates  great  interest  in  him.  He's  brought 
along  the  whole  business  —  enough  for  a  regiment.  Isn't 
that  so,  Doctor  ?  "  he  asked,  the  surgeon's  long  form  hav- 
ing just  shown  itself. 

"The  preparation  I  have  made  is  ample,"  said  Lacy, 
with  evident  pride. 


18  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Better  than  I  was  treated  down  at  Kelley's  Ford  last 
March,"  said  the  captain  ;  "  yet  I  have  no  cause  to  com- 
plain ;  they  did  the  best  they  could  for  me,  I  suppose  ; 
but  they  gave  me  no  ambulance  to  ride  in,  nor  any  patent 
mattress  to  lie  on." 

"  Your  recovery  was  rapid,  nevertheless,"  said  the  sur- 
geon ;  "  but  are  you  thoroughly  strong  yet,  Freeman  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  the  day's  ride  hasn't  hurt  me  at  all.  Do 
you  really  believe  Morgan  is  still  alive  ? " 

"I  know  nothing  more  than  I've  already  told  you, 
Freeman.  The  colonel  said  he  had  received  a  note  un- 
signed, stating  that  Morgan  was  over  here  ;  but  I  fear 
the  whole  thing  is  a  trap  ;  innovation  is  always  to  be 
suspected." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Freeman  ;  "  I  don't  believe  they  would 
be  guilty  of  such  a  thing — not  even  Mosby.  At  any 
rate,  I'm  going  to  find  out  in  the  morning  if  any  great 
force  is  near  by,  and  if  so  I  shall  ask  a  truce  to  see  after 

our  men." 

****••* 

The  night  was  cloudless,  the  concave  moon  was  three- 
quarters  down  the  sky,  and  the  vedette  doing  double  duty 
on  the  Ashby  pike  was  thinking  it  was  nearing  the  time 
for  relief,  when  he  heard  a  noise  from  his  right  —  a  sort 
of  coughing  sound,  as  though  preliminary  to  salutation. 

"  And  who  is  ut  that's  there  now  ?  Spake  quick  I  " 
he  called,  abruptly  jerking  his  horse  to  the  left. 

"  Hit  ain't  nobody  but  me,  Mahsta ;  hit  ain't  nobody 
but  ole  Squiah,  sah  ;  I  done  be'n  sont  to  see  de  ginnle,  o' 
leastways  de  cap'm." 


A  LAST  RESORT  19 

With  some  fear  of  a  stratagem,  yet  with  full  recognition 
of  an  immitigable  negro  voice  and  speech,  O'Donnell 
made  ready  his  carbine,  and  said  sternly,  "  Come  out  o' 
there  at  wanst  I  " 

A  small  man  approached ;  indeed,  he  looked  smaller 
than  he  was,  for  he  was  bending  very  low,  not  in  mock 
humility,  but  with  the  natural  deference  of  the  heredi- 
tarily weak. 

"  I  ain't  nobody  but  ole  Squiah,  Mahsta,"  he  repeated, 
as,  with  hat  off  and  coatless  in  the  warm  night,  he  stood 
before  the  horseman,  who  could  now  see  that  the  little 
man's  wool  was  very  white. 

"Whereabout  d'  ye  belong,  and  what  d'  ye  wantt, 
man  ? "  Then  the  sentinel  called  aloud  for  the  cor- 
poral. 

"  I  b'longs  to  Mahs  John  Ahmstrong,  sah,  but  he  done 
gim  me  to  Mahs  Chahley,  an'  he  done  guv  Judy,  dat's 
my  ole  'oman,  sah,  he  done  guv  Judy  to  my  Miss  Lucy, 
an'  I  done  be'n  sont  to  tell  you  'bout  Mahs  Dan  Mawgin." 

"  Dan  Margan,  of  all  the  world  I  And  d'  ye  know 
where  he  is  now?" 

"  Yassah  ;  de  good  book  hit  say  dat  de  man  w'at  fight 
is  a-sho'  gwine  to  be  smit  by  de  swoad,  an'  hit's  mighty 
right  dis  time  —  leastways,  ef  it  waun't  a  swoad  hit  mus' 
ha'  be'n  a  cannon-ball,  ef  it  waun't  a  bullet.  But  he's 
mighty  bad  off,  sah  —  dat  he  is  ;  he's  pow'ful  weak, 
Mahsta." 

"  And  where  is  the  poor  craythur  now  ?  " 

"  At  ouah  house,  sah." 

The  corporal  came  up,  and  O'Donnell  explained. 


20  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Well,  I  hope  the  darky  is  telling  the  truth.  We've 
been  afraid  that  Morgan  was  killed.  Hasn't  been  seen 
since  the  fight  on  the  twenty-first.  Say  you  know  where 
he  is,  old  man  ?  " 

"Yassah,  we  tuck  good  keeh  of  'im.  Blesh  yo'  soul, 
honey,  we  done  tuck  es  good  keeh  of  'im  es  ef  he  wus  a 
Confeddick.  I  done  be'n  sont  to  tell  de  cap'm  how  to 
come  an  git  'im." 

"Yes,  but  you  must  tell  we,"  said  the  corporal,  with 
the  desire  of  relieving  his  superior  of  any  possible 
annoyance. 

The  negro  scratched  his  head,  and  was  silent  for  a 
moment ;  then  he  said,  "  But,  Mahsta,  hit  won't  do  no 
good,  onless  I  tell  de  cap'm." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Dess  'caze  nobody  can't  git  'im,  sah,  onless  dey  comes 
right." 

"  Come  right  ?     What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,  Mahsta,  'scusin'  hit  ain't  feh  to  come  wi'  de 
w'ite  flag." 

"  Oho  !     They  mean  to  deliver  him  under  truce,  hey  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  I  'spec'  dat's  hit ;  I  'spec'  dey  wants  de 
troof." 

"  Stand  to  your  post,  O'Donnell,  and  hold  him  here," 
said  the  corporal,  turning  rein.  "  I'll  be  back  presently." 

"  And  is  Margan  bad  hit,  now  ?  Where  is  the 
wound  ?  "  asked  the  sentinel. 

"In  de  top  o'  he  shouldeh,  Mahsta,  an'  hit's  mighty 
bad.  He  ain't  spoke  but  one  time,  sah,  sence  he  got 
shot." 


A  LAST  RESORT  21 

"  Is  he  in  yer  own  house,  d'  ye  say,  now  ?  " 

"  In  de  big  house,  sah,  an'  in  de  baid  ;  he  done  had  two 
Confeddick  doctohs,  but  dey  ain't  done  him  no  good  at 
allyit." 

"  Thrue  for  ye  ;  more  be  token,  they've  nahthing  to  do 
good  with.  Can  he  ait,  now  ?  " 

"  No,  sah  ;  but  Miss  Lucy,  she  fo'ced  some  broth  down 
his  th'oat  dis  inawnin'.  Dat's  dess  w'y  I  done  be'n  sont, 
Mahsta,  so  de  Feddick  doctohs,  w'at's  got  all  de  tools, 
kin  do  'im  some  good.  De  Confeddick  doctohs  dey  done 
said  dat  was  de  onliest  chance." 

The  negro's  tones  and  manner  of  speech  would  have 
betrayed  great  deliberation  had  any  familiar  acquaintance 
heard  him  ;  old  Squire  was  certainly  doing  his  best  to 
conceal,  and  at  the  same  time  to  accomplish. 

When  the  corporal  returned,  he  ordered  Squire  to 
march  before  him,  and  soon  halted  the  old  man  in  front 
of  four  officers. 

"  This  is  the  man,  Captain." 

Squire  saluted  to  the  ground,  and  stood  there  in  the  moon- 
light, looking  unabashed  in  the  presence  of  the  powerful. 

"  I'm  told  you  know  where  Lieutenant  Morgan  is,"  said 
the  captain.  This  speech  surprised  Squire ;  he  had  not 
known  that  the  wounded  man  was  an  officer. 

"  Yassah,  he's  at  ouah  house,  sah,  —  leastway  Mahs 
Dan  Mawgin's  dah,  sah, —  an'  I  done  be'n  sont  to  tell  you 
dat  shu  kin  come  an'  git  'im,  sah  .  .  .  dess  about  a  mile, 
sah,  atteh  you  go  by  dem  chimbleys." 

"  Where  are  the  rebels  ?"..."  What  is  the  character 
of  the  wound  ?  " 


22  OLD  SQUIRE 

The  question  written  as  second  in  order,  though  the 
two  were  spoken  simultaneously,  came  of  course  from 
Surgeon  Lacy,  and  was  more  to  Squire's  taste  than  was 
the  first. 

"  Mahs  Dan,  you  talkin'  'bout,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  tell  me  how  he  is  hurt." 

"  Oh,  hold  on,  Lacy;  plenty  of  time  for  that.  Old  man, 
where  are  the  rebels?"  repeated  the  captain. 

Now  this,  in  Squire's  opinion,  was  a  very  unparliamen- 
tary question  —  one  of  the  questions  against  which  he  had 
been  earnestly  cautioned ;  and  he  thought  the  best  policy 
was  to  split  the  difference  —  to  tell  half-truths  and  half- 
lies,  and  to  exaggerate  lavishly. 

"  Dey  is  all  about,  sah,  'scusin'  dem  w'at's  done  went 
away.  Some  of  'em  is  in  Loudoun,  an'  some  of  'em  is  in 
Culpepeh,  an'  some  in  Mellan'  an'  Penns'vania,  an'  some 
is  in  Richmon,'  an'  some  is  in  ole  Fihginny,  an'  den  some 
mo'e  of  'em  is  done  went  to  Washin'ton." 

"  Washington  I  "  exclaimed  Captain  Freeman,  angrily  ; 
"  you  know  very  well  that's  a  lie.  Who  put  you  up  to 
say  that  ?  " 

Dr.  Lacy  seemed  as  angry  as  the  captain,  though  on  a 
different  account.  "Freeman,  let  the  man  tell  all  he 
knows  in  his  own  way  and  get  through.  I  want  to  hear 
about  Morgan's  wound." 

"  Now  you  just  hold  on  till  your  turn  comes,  Doc.  —  Say, 
old  man,  what  do  you  mean  by  telling  me  such  lies  ?  " 

Squire  was  inwardly  trembling  because  of  his  mistake, 
but  thanks  to  the  respite  brought  by  the  surgeon's  inter- 
vention, had  seen  his  way  out. 


A  LAST  RESORT  23 

"  Yassah,  mayby  dey  did  tell  me  wrong,  'caze  I  didn't 
go  wid  'em,  an'  cou'se  I  can't  tell  it  feh  true,  an'  some 
men  is  mighty  deceivin',  Mahsta,  but  I  seed  some  of  'em 
tek  de  back  track  feh  Washin'ton  w'en  de  mos'  of  'em 
ride  down  the  road  to'ads  Leesbuhg." 

"  Back  track  !  Do  you  know  where  Washington 
is?" 

"  Yassah;  de  big  Washin'ton  hit's  down  de  road,  an  de 
Little  Washin'ton  hit's  up  de  road.  You  b'lieve  I  talkin' 
'bout  de  big  Washin'ton,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  grunted  the  captain,  "  you  mean  Little  Wash- 
ington in  Rappahannock  County  ?  " 

"Yassah." 

"Now,  Freeman,  give  me  my  turn,"  said  the  surgeon, 
chuckling. 

"No;  I'm  not  through  with  him  yet.  Are  there  no 
rebels  left  about  Middleburg  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yassah,"  replied  Squire,  lying  superbly  ;  "  dey  is 
some  dah  yit;  but  dem  dat  done  sont  me  dey  ain't 
a-gwine  to  fight  shu  all;  dey  say  you  dess  sen'  an'  git  Mahs 
Dan  Mawgin  ;  dey  not  a-gwine  to  fight  shu  all ;  dey  says 
zhu  dess  put  up  de  w'ite  flag  an'  dess  come  along  ;  dess 
put  up  de  w'ite  flag,  Mahsta,  awn  yo'  am'lance,  an'  come 
right  along  an'  git  'im, —  dat's  w'at  dey  want  shu  to  do, — 
you  kin  tek  'im  an'  keoh1  'im  up,  'caze  he  mighty  bad  awff, 
an'  he  sho'  is  a-needin'  de  tools  w'at  shu  got  an'  w'at  dey 
ain't  got ;  dat's  w'at  dey  says,  Mahsta,  an'  dat's  w'at  dey 
done  sont  ole  Squiah  to  tell  you,  sah,  dat  dey  ain't  a-gwine 
to  fight  shu  ef  you  dess  puts  up  de  w'ite  flag." 

iCure. 


24  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Now,  Freeman,  will  you  graciously  permit  me  to  do 
my  duty  ?  "  said  the  doctor. 

"  Go  ahead,  Doc,"  replied  the  captain,  his  tones  indi- 
cating surrender  without  bitterness. 

"Tell  me,  my  friend,  where  the  wounded  man  is  hurt." 

"In  de  neck  an'  shouldeh,  Mahsta." 

"  By  what  sort  of  weapon  ?  " 

"Sah?" 

"  Was  he  shot,  or  cut  ?  "  explained  Freeman. 

"  Hit  mus'  ha'  be'n  a  bullet,  sah." 

"  Whereabouts  on  the  neck  ?  " 

Squire  put  his  forefinger  somewhere  behind  his  right 
jaw,  as  it  seemed  to  Freeman  ;  perhaps  Lacy,  even  in  the 
mild  moonlight,  knew  what  was  meant. 

"  Can  he  eat  ?  " 

"  No,  sah,  an'  he  can't  talk,  nutheh  ;  he  dess  stays  right 
still  all  de  time,  sah." 

Lacy  continued  to  question  the  negro,  who,  however, 
was  really  unable  to  give  him  other  information  than  that 
the  wound  was  very  serious. 

"  Where  are  Mosby's  men  ?  "  asked  the  prudent  captain. 

"I  dunno,  Mahsta." 

"  Where  are  White's  men  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,  Mahsta." 

Yet,  even  guerillas  would  respect  the  white  flag,  thought 
the  captain.  There  need  be  no  hesitation  in  accepting  the 
negro's  news  as  valid,  and  there  need  be  no  fear  in  send- 
ing for  the  wounded  officer,  so  Squire  was  dismissed  with 
a  verbal  message  to  the  effect  that  the  ambulance  would 
be  sent  to  Armstrong's  at  eleven  o'clock  on  the  morrow. 


A  LAST  RESORT  25 

Daniel  Morgan  had  been  warned  by  the  Confederate 
surgeons  that  his  brother's  case  required  appliances  impos- 
sible for  them  to  procure  ;  he  had  seen,  therefore,  that  the 
only  hope  was  to  deliver  him  into  Federal  hands,  and  for 
this  purpose  he  had  risked  another  day's  delay,  so  when 
Squire  before  daybreak  returned  with  the  report  of  a  suc- 
cessful mission,  it  needed  but  few  hours  to  make  every- 
thing ready,  not  for  his  own  departure  merely,  but  for 
that  of  his  friends  also. 

******* 

The  Armstrongs  —  father,  mother,  and  daughter,  with 
Mrs.  Berry  —  took  their  seats  in  a  great  carriage,  while 
the  servants  climbed  into  a  heavy  wagon  loaded  with 
what  the  refugees  felt  compelled  to  save.  The  adieus 
had  hardly  been  said  when  old  Squire  trotted  up. 

"  Lawdy  !     You  gwine  now,  Mahs  John  ?  " 

Mr.  Armstrong  found  himself  unable  to  reply.  This 
home  which  he  was  deserting  had  been  his  home  since  his 
birth — the  only  home  he  had  ever  known  ;  the  only  place 
he  would  ever  know  as  home. 

The  old  negro  sidled  up  to  the  carriage,  and  took  one 
by  one  the  white  hands  extended  to  him,  and  called  down 
all  the  blessings  of  heaven,  while  unrestrained  tears  were 
visible  on  Lucy's  cheeks,  and  Mrs.  Armstrong  sobbed 
convulsively.  Then  Squire  went  to  the  wagon  where 
Aunt  Judy,  his  wife,  was  sitting  on  a  big  trunk.  He 
put  one  foot  on  a  spoke,  raised  himself,  took  his  wife's 
hand  and  placed  it  on  his  own  white  head. 

"  Gawd  bless  an'  save  you,  Judy.  I's  got  to  follow 
Mahs  Chahley  th'ough  thick  an'  thin,  an'  you's  got  to  go 


26  OLD  SQUIRE 

wi'   Miss  Lucy  anywhah   an'   ev'ywhah.      You   an'  me, 
Judy  — you  an'  me  —  dat's  all.     'Membeh  ole  Squiah  "  — 
and  without  another  word  he  sprang  from  the  wheel  and 
turned  toward  the  house,  leaving  old  Judy  rocking  from 
side  to  side  in  her  speechless   agony.     Hardly  had  the 
horses  started  when  Squire  was  at   the  doorway  where 
Daniel  Morgan,  bitter  partings  over,  still  stood,  watching 
the  refugees  begin  their  journey  into  hoped-for  safety. 
"  Mahs  Dan,  you  ain't  a-gwine  to  hide  ?  " 
"  No,  it's  almost  time  for  them  to  be  here,  Squire." 
"  Yassah,  dey  gwine  to  git  sheah  'bout  'leben  o'clock, 
sah." 

"We  have  only  half  an  hour,  Squire.  They'll  not 
trouble  you  or  me ;  but  you'd  better  take  our  horses  and 
hide  them  in  the  thicket  down  below  the  pasture  — 
we  don't  know  what  thieves  they  may  have  in  the 
gang." 

Old  Squire  left  him.  He  went  to  the  room  where  his 
twin  brother  lay.  Soon  he  would  deliver  this  brother 
into  the  hands  of  friends  —  this  brother  with  whom  he 
was  even  yet  unacquainted.  God,  if  he  willed  it  so, 
could  save  this  life  so  nearly  spent.  Daniel  Morgan 
had  in  his  own  mind  decided  on  this  course  —  it  was 
the  only  hope.  And,  as  he  stood  by  Andrew's  bed- 
side, he  felt  that  he  had  done  for  the  best  in  sending 
Squire  for  the  Federals.  But  should  he  tell  the  Federals 
his  own  great  interest  in  their  comrade?  They  would 
soon  be  here  to  take  his  brother  away  —  would  their  kind- 
ness to  the  wounded  man  be  greater  if  they  should  know 
that  he  was  of  Southern  birth  ?  No  ;  let  Andrew,  when 


A  LAST  RESORT  27 

he  should  recover  speech,  tell  whatever  he  might  choose 
to  tell ;  to  tell  now  would  be  to  do  so  without  his  consent. 
Daniel  bent  over  and  spoke. 

"  Brother,  I  knpw  that  you  can  understand  what  I  say. 
I  have  sent  for  your  friends  ;  they  will  soon  be  here,  to 
take  you  to  some  good  hospital  where  you  can  get  scien- 
tific treatment.  I  have  done  the  best  I  could  for  you  ; 
I  cannot  stay  here,  for  my  duty  calls  me  away.  When 
you  recover,  I  want  you  to  send  me  word,  if  possible. 
Until  I  know  that  you  have  recovered  I  can  do  my  duty 
without  hesitation  ;  when  you  have  recovered,  I  shall 
want  to  know  it,  and  shall  want  to  meet  you,  so  that 
we  can  arrange  some  way  to  prevent  our  ever  meeting 
in  battle.  Let  us  never  run  the  risk  of  injuring  each 
other.  If  it  be  possible  I  shall  send  you  some  word,  but 
now  I  can  do  no  more  than  tell  you  that  my  place  is 
usually  with  the  First  Virginia  cavalry,  though  frequently 
I  am  called  on  to  serve  General  Stuart,  and  in  many  ways. 
I  shall  not  say  to  your  friends  that  you  are  my  brother  ; 
it  could  do  no  good,  so  far  as  I  can  see.  When  you 
recover,  then  decide  for  yourself  whether  you  shall  tell 
anything.  I  know  that  enough  has  been  said  before  you 
to  enable  you  to  understand  our  real  relations,  and  our 
strange  history.  I  pledge  you,  brother,  that  my  hand 
shall  never  be  against  you,  and  if  we  survive  this  war  I 
shall  harbour  no  thought  against  you  for  serving  against 
us  —  you  simply  couldn't  help  it.  And  I  know  that  you 
give  me  credit  for  serving  with  equal  honesty  against 
you.  Good-by."  The  Confederate  bent  down  and  kissed 
the  wounded  man. 


28  OLD  SQUIRE 

An  hour  later  the  ambulance,  under  its  escort,  was 
moving  slowly  toward  Aldie,  while  Daniel  Morgan,  with 
old  Squire,  was  riding  fast  in  a  northeasterly  direction, 
to  overtake  his  friends  and  with  them  seek  Stuart. 


CHAPTER   III 

SANCTUARY 

"  Soften  the  wounded  prisoner's  lot."  —  SCOTT. 

A  CAREFUL  examination  had  convinced  the  experienced 
Dr.  Lacy  that  Morgan's  wound  was  not  necessarily  fatal, 
and  yet  that  the  Confederate  surgeons  had  been  profes- 
sionally correct  in  advising  that  the  sufferer  be  handed 
over  to  the  Union  army.  The  Federal  surgeon  could 
only  apply  a  medicated  bandage  and  allow  prompt  re- 
moval ;  although  he  feared  the  effect,  yet  the  journey 
was  clearly  necessary,  and  for  that  he  had  already  done 
the  best  in  providing  for  the  easiest  manner  of  trans- 
portation possible.  To  stout  elastic  straps  from  the 
ribbed  roof  of  the  vehicle  swung  a  mattress,  beneath 
which  were  springs  that  it  scarcely  touched,  permitting 
only  the  minimum  of  oscillation,  and  furnishing  the 
basis  of  the  doctor's  pardonable  vanity  over  his  own 
invention.  To  this  mattress  the  wounded  Morgan  was 
lifted  directly  from  his  bed  ;  then  mattress  and  all  were 
placed  in  the  ambulance,  screws  and  clamps  were  secured, 
and  orders  given  to  drive  eastward  with  extreme  care, 
two  men  walking  ahead  to  remove  every  stone  from 
possible  touch  of  the  wheels. 

29 


30  OLD  SQUIRE 

The  surgeon  had  mounted,  and  now  rode  in  front  at 
the  slowest  walk,  to  guide  the  pace.  A  mile  made, 
Captain  Freeman's  company  was  found  under  arms  by 
the  roadside.  The  surgeon  reported,  and  was  ordered  to 
proceed  through  Middleburg,  the  captain  promising  to 
guard  the  rear,  and  to  overtake  the  ambulance  before 
it  should  reach  Aldie.  Lacy  learned  that  the  parties 
sent  out  over  the  battle-ground  and  into  the  houses  near  by 
had  failed  to  find  any  wounded  soldier,  so  he  was  content 
to  know  that  his  exclusive  attention  to  Morgan  was  all 
that  could  be  required. 

The  slow  progress  under  the  midsummer  sun  was  try- 
ing. Lacy  tied  his  bridle  to  the  rear  of  the  ambulance 
and  got  inside  to  avoid  the  heat,  yet,  although  there  had 
been  rain  but  few  days  before,  and  the  fields  were  still 
wet,  the  dust  rose  in  great  puffs  from  the  hoofs  in  front 
and  balanced  thick  in  the  stagnant  air,  speedily  powdering 
the  interior  of  the  vehicle.  This  dust,  Lacy  reasoned, 
might  prove  the  preponderant  grains  in  the  scales  of  life 
and  death  ;  the  doctor  himself,  well  and  sound,  was  suffer- 
ing for  want  of  pure  air  ;  how  was  it  with  the  patient, 
whose  air  passages  might  already  have  become  almost 
choked  by  his  wound  ?  At  every  firm  spot  in  the  road, 
Lacy  called  a  halt  and  allowed  a  breathing  spell,  yet 
there  before  him  he  could  always  see  the  white  line  of 
deep  dust  through  which  the  horses  and  wheels  must 
churn  ;  and  he  began  to  cast  about  for  some  possible 
manner  of  saving  his  patient  from  the  noisome  effects 
of  the  way.  He  could  see  the  road  for  a  mile  in  his 
rear:  no  cavalry  were  on  it  ;  he  had  time  to  wait  and  to 
think. 


SANCTUARY  81 

Only  a  furlong  at  the  left  of  the  road  was  an  unpre- 
tentious farm-house.  Lacy  sent  one  of  his  three  men  to 
inquire  whether  it  was  possible,  by  taking  some  by-road, 
to  avoid  the  deep  dust  in  front,  and  yet  secure  comfort  — 
a  good  level  surface  is  the  main  requisite  in  any  road. 
The  man  soon  returned,  bringing  with  him  Mr.  West,  the 
resident,  who  calmly  introduced  himself.  The  surgeon 
pressed  his  questions. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  Southerner,  curtly,  "  there  is  a 
way  through  my  place." 

"  Then  I'll  ask  you  to  show  me  the  way.  I  have  a 
soldier  here  who  is  badly  hurt." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  a  surgeon,  sir,  and  on  the  Union 
side  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  I  trust  you  are  a  true  patriot." 

Mr.  West  smiled  doubtfully.  "  I  think  I  am,  sir  ;  yet 
there  are  two  sides  to  that  question.  However,  that  shall 
not  prevent  my  helping  a  wounded  man." 

"I  acknowledge  no  two  sides,"  said  the  surgeon, 
emphatically ;  "  but  if  you  are  not  for  the  Union,  I  accept 
your  help  as  man  to  man.  Will  you  lead  the  way  ?  " 

Mr.  West  walked  toward  his  home,  Dr.  Lacy,  who  had 
remounted,  riding  near  the  farmer,  and  the  ambulance 
slowly  following. 

"I  suppose  the  wounded  man  is  the  one  that  was  at 
Armstrong's  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Lieutenant  Morgan." 

Mr.  West  had  heard  of  the  case  of  the  two  brothers, 
but  thought  best  to  say  nothing  about  it. 

"  Very  badly  hurt,  sir  ?  " 


82  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Yes,  a  quite  serious  wound ;  an  interesting  one,  too, 
to  a  man  of  my  calling.  I'm  hoping  to  pull  him  through, 
but  I  know  that  to  do  so  I  must  make  no  mistake." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  can  imagine  your  interest.  I've  often 
thought  that  a  devoted  surgeon  gets  as  much  out  of  real 
life  as  anybody  :  he  saves  others,  and  lives  large  himself. 
But  for  accident  I  should  have  followed  your  noble 
calling.  Now,  here  we  turn  off  through  my  lot.  I'll 
take  you  by  a  road  through  my  fields,  where  there  is  no 
dust,  and  not  a  stone.  The  way  is  longer,  but  you'll  come 
out  into  the  pike  again  near  Aldie,  and  save  quite  a  long 
pull  through  the  dust,  sir.  I'll  go  with  you  until  you 
can't  miss  the  —  But,  hello  !  Look  yonder  !  " 

Mr.  West  had  been  in  the  act  of  opening  his  big  gate, 
and  in  doing  so  had  turned,  and  he  was  now  looking 
toward  the  pike.  From  down  the  road  a  single  horseman 
was  riding  westward  with  all  speed,  the  dust  flying,  the 
horse's  head,  neck,  and  tail  almost  one  straight  line. 

The  surgeon  had  turned,  but  had  shown  no  discom- 
posure. Though  the  horseman's  clothing  was  so  com- 
pletely covered  with  dust  that  the  colour  of  his  uniform 
was  all  guesswork,  yet  Lacy  knew  by  his  perception  of 
many  minute  particulars  merged  into  one  general  aspect 
that  the  man  was  a  courier  ;  and,  if  a  courier,  he  must  be 
a  Federal,  riding  with  orders  for  Freeman.  Bending  low, 
the  man  was  storming  by,  regardless  of  dust  or  hill  or  hol- 
low ;  yet,  as  he  passed  the  outlet  of  the  homestead  lane, 
he  turned  his  face,  no  doubt  perceiving  the  ambulance, 
and  shouted,  but  the  words  could  not  be  distinguished. 

"I   believe   that  man  is  Stahel's  courier,"  said   Lacy, 


SANCTUARY  33 

almost  mechanically ;  then,  "  Could  you  tell  what  he 
said?" 

"  No,  I  couldn't  make  it  out." 

"Perhaps  Mosby's  men  have  cut  us  off." 

"  Perhaps  so,  sir,"  said  Mr.  West,  smiling,  and  thinking 
of  Usher. 

"Mr.  West,  I  wish  to  hide  this  ambulance." 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  ought  to  help  you  in  that,  sir. 
I'll  do  what  I  can  for  your  wounded  man,  but  I  ought  to 
do  no  more." 

"  Then  I  must  do  the  best  I  can.  Lead  on,  if  you  will. 
The  courier  will  soon  get  to  Captain  Freeman,  and  they 
will  learn  the  news.  Until  I  know  more  than  I  do  now, 
I  shall  be  afraid  to  risk  my  patient  farther  east." 

"  As  you  wish,  sir  ;  I  shall  not  object  to  your  waiting 
till  you  know  more.  This  way,  sir." 

The  ambulance  was  driven  behind  a  clump  of  plum 
trees  near  the  horse  lot.  One  of  the  surgeon's  men  was 
stationed  at  the  gate,  where  he  could  watch  the  pike. 
Mr.  West  lingered  near  the  vehicle  and  occasionally 
looked  into  it.  Morgan  was  still  stretched  out,  on  his 
back,  with  eyes  open — intelligent  eyes  which  seemed  to  say 
that  he  knew  all  that  was  passing.  And  it  was  true  that, 
with  the  exception  of  intervals  when  he  had  slept  or  had 
been  giddy  from  pain,  he  had  known  all  the  while  his  own 
condition  and  somewhat  of  his  immediate  surroundings. 
At  this  moment  he  had  begun  to  rise  out  of  a  semi-con- 
scious state  of  suffering  ;  he  had  felt  his  body  oppressed, 
as  with  a  weight  preventing  breath,  and  he  had  believed 
himself  about  to  succumb ;  but  now,  in  pure  air,  relief  had 


84  OLD  SQUIRE 

succeeded,  and  yet  almost  intolerable  thirst.  He  could 
not  remember  that  he  had  wanted  water  —  it  seemed  a 
long  time  since  he  had  thought  of  water  —  a  long  time 
since  he  had  been  brought  into  the  Armstrong  house  —  a 
long  time  since  he  had  fallen.  Snatches  of  recollection 
came  to  him,  —  women,  men,  one  man  above  all,  who  had 
claimed  to  be  his  brother,  yes,  whom  he  knew  to  be  his 
brother,  for  Daniel  Morgan  the  Federal  had  learned  of 
the  relationship  before  the  Confederate  had  known.  He 
had  slept  much  for  the  past  two  days,  and  his  sleep  had 
been  marked  by  disturbing  dreams  ;  so  now,  while  wide 
awake,  he  was  unable  to  know  dream  from  fact,  and  as  he 
lay  there  on  the  mattress  the  past  became  to  him  a  past 
of  confusion  wherein  things  lost  their  right  proportion 
and  mixed  irrelevantly.  Yet  his  old  actual  service,  before 
he  had  been  hurt,  loomed  in  his  memory  intact,  and  he 
knew  that  he  had  discovered  his  brother's  existence  while 
his  own  body  and  mind  had  been  sound.  And  the  pres- 
ent moment  was  clear  :  he  had  heard  and  understood 
the  last  words  of  Mr.  West  and  Dr.  Lacy  ;  he  knew 
that  the  surgeon  had  suspended  the  march,  and  he  hoped 
that  the  delay  would  be  long,  for  movement  was  very 
painful. 

Morgan's  thoughts  were  forced  into  another  channel. 
The  voice  of  the  surgeon  sounded  sharply  in  his  ears. 

"How  long  since?" 

"Only  two  hours,  sir." 

"  Was  it  known  who  they  were  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  Stuart  —  Stuart's  whole  force.  They  went 
through  Glasscock  Gap  night  before  last,  sir,  and  they  are 


SANCTUARY  35 

now  passing  through  Prince  William  ;  but  nobody  knows 
where  they  are  making  for." 

"  When  will  Captain  Freeman  be  here  ?  " 

"  Coming  now,  sir  ;  he  ought  to  be  here  in  a  few 
minutes." 

Captain  Freeman's  company  had  been  halted  on  the 
turnpike  ;  the  commander  rode  alone  to  see  the  surgeon. 

"  Bad  news,  Doc  !  " 

"  Yes,  I'm  told  that  Stuart  has  cut  us  off  from  the  east." 

"  Fact,  I  guess  ;  at  any  rate,  there's  no  doubt  that 
rebels  are  between  us  and  Fairfax." 

"  And  what  orders  have  you  received,  Captain  ?  " 

"I've  been  ordered  to  march  through  Hopewell,  or 
Thoroughfare,  or  Glasscock,  and  get  back  as  quickly  as 
possible.  The  rebels  are  reported  moving  northeast,  and 
I  am  to  strike  south  of  them  and  get  back.  This  road  is 
completely  blocked  east  of  Aldie,  and  there's  no  telling 
how  long  it  will  be  blocked.  Stahel  has  marched  into 
Maryland,  and  my  instructions  give  me  choice  of  moving 
after  him  by  Leesburg  ;  but  I'm  afraid  I'd  run  into  a  trap, 
for  Pleasonton  has  no  doubt  crossed  by  this  time.  I  pre- 
fer the  southern  gaps." 

"  And  you  go  at  once  ?  " 

"  Yes,  orders  are  imperative.  I  expect  a  long  ride,  and 
a  rapid  one." 

"  Well,  Freeman,  this  ambulance  with  my  patient  in  it 
cannot  go  over  those  rough  roads." 

"  Yes,  I  understand,  Doc  ;  your  case  gives  me  the 
shakes,  my  friend ;  I'm  compelled  to  let  you  decide  what 
you'll  do." 


86  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Decide  ?  Decide  be  damned  ! "  exclaimed  Lacy, 
roused  to  rare  emphasis.  "  The  thing  decides  itself  ;  I 
stay  with  my  patient." 

"  Of  course,  I  knew  you'd  do  that.  How  about  your 
men?" 

Lacy  seemed  not  to  hear  ;  he  was  thinking  —  trying  to 
determine  quickly  what  was  best  to  be  done.  When  he 
spoke  again,  his  tones  were  full  of  energy. 

"  Can  you  give  me  an  hour  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Half  an  hour,  then  ?  Order  your  men  to  feed,  and  give 
me  half  an  hour." 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  do?  " 

"  I  mean  to  use  my  men,  and  some  of  yours,  for  half  an 
hour,  and  then  let  my  men  go  back  with  you.  There's  no 
good  in  getting  them  caught  here,  and  the  more  of  us  that 
are  left  the  more  danger  there'll  be.  Mr.  West  here 
seems  willing  to  help  us,  out  of  pure  charity." 

"  Well,  Doc,  take  your  half-hour  ;  but  be  lively  now, 
man,  and  don't  delay  me  longer." 

"  You'll  see  me  ready  in  twenty  minutes.  Send  me  two 
or  three  of  your  best  men  up  here." 

Lacy  had  his  patient,  without  removing  him  from  the 
mattress,  taken  into  the  house,  West  giving  up  his  best 
rooms.  Then  the  chest  of  instruments  and  medicines 
was  brought  in,  and  finally  Lacy's  personal  baggage. 

"  Now,  Mr.  West,"  said  the  doctor,  "  won't  you  let  me 
hide  this  ambulance  somewhere  ?  I  can  have  it  taken  to 
pieces  and  scattered  here  and  there,  ready  to  put  together 
again  when  I  can  get  away." 


SANCTUARY  37 

"No,  Doctor,  I  can't  help  you  do  that ;  besides,  what 
would  you  do  with  your  horses?  I  don't  mind  telling 
you  that  I  should  be  tempted  to  notify  the  first  Confeder- 
ates I  see  where  you  have  hidden  your  horses.  As  for 
the  wounded  man,  that's  a  different  thing,  though  I  don't 
know,  after  all,  that  I  shouldn't  tell  our  folks  so  that  they 
can  get  his  parole." 

Lacy  reflected;  this  man  West  was  stubborn  in  his 
adherence  to  his  cause.  "  Morgan's  parole  would  be 
worth  nothing,"  said  he  ;  "  he  is  at  the  door  of  death,  and 
even  if  he  recovers  it  is  very  doubtful  that  he  could  ever 
serve  again  ;  but  I  shall  not  urge  you  to  do  violence  to 
your  conscience.  Here,  Hawley  !  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Lead  my  horse.  — Jamison,  drive  the  ambulance  down 
to  the  road.  It  can  follow  empty  without  any  trouble." 

Down  at  the  pike  the  bugle  sounded  to  saddle.  Captain 
Freeman  pressed  the  surgeon's  hand.  "  Lacy,"  he  said,  "  I 
always  knew  you  were  a  tiptop  fellow,  and  you're  doing 
now  only  what  I  should  have  known  you'd  do  in  such  a 
case.  You  may  feel  sure,  old  man,  that  Bob  Freeman  will 
tell  things  on  you  at  headquarters.  And  we're  coming 
back  for  you  as  soon  as  possible.  Good-by,"  and  Freeman 
turned  and  galloped  after  his  company,  which  was  filing 
southeast  over  rugged  roads  to  avoid  Stuart's  column  and 
work  back  to  safety. 

Though  the  wise  submit  to  necessity,  they  feel  the 
necessity.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  sudden  invasion 
of  his  home  was  as  disagreeable  to  Mr.  West  as  it  was 
to  Dr.  Lacy.  Mr.  West  was  known  in  all  the  country 


38  OLD  SQUIRE 

round  about  as  a  discreet  man,  a  long-headed  man,  a  safe 
man.  His  adherence  in  sentiment  to  the  Southern  cause 
had  been  open,  even  while  Loudoun  was  occupied  by 
Federals  ;  yet  he  had  given  no  offence,  unless  indeed  to 
mere  sentiment  contrary  to  his  own.  None  had  ever  been 
known  to  impugn  his  motives,  or  to  point  to  any  objec- 
tionable act ;  for  while  to  the  Federals  he  admitted  without 
obtrusiveness  his  political  views,  at  the  same  time  he 
condemned  the  voluntary  activity  of  civilians  here  in  this 
fought  for  corner,  and  even  had  shut  his  doors  upon  his 
own  son  until  Usher  proved  to  his  father  that  Mosby  was 
regularly  commissioned,  and  his  men  formally  enlisted  in 
the  service  of  the  Confederate  States.  He  had  said  that 
he  would  be  tempted  to  divulge  the  hiding-place  of  Lacy's 
horses,  but  such  temptation  would  have  been  overcome,  as 
always,  by  his  sense  of  the  impropriety  of  any  civilian's 
engaging  in  help  of  either  side  when  not  forced  by  law. 
He  was  in  the  vigour  of  middle  age,  —  sturdy,  well  pre- 
served, frugal,  hardy,  thoughtful,  —  stern,  his  neighbours 
thought.  Except  for  Usher,  who  was  almost  always 
away,  his  only  daughter,  named  for  his  native  State,  was 
all  his  family,  Mrs.  West  having  died  before  the  war 
began.  Jennie,  now  nineteen,  was  everything  her  father 
wished,  save  that  by  responsibility  and  care  she  was 
forced  into  a  life  from  which  he  would  gladly  have  ele- 
vated her.  Almost  every  negro  had  gone,  and  Virginia 
was  mistress,  cook,  housemaid,  sempstress,  all  in  one, 
except  for  the  help  of  two  superannuated  slaves ;  and  at 
times  it  was  difficult  for  her  to  obtain  their  yet  more 
servile  work,  so  that  her  hands  were  full  and  her  brain  as 


SANCTUARY  39 

well.  True,  her  family  was  small,  and  her  father's  tastes 
were  not  exacting,  and  her  own  simple  nature  demanded 
not  the  unattainable  ;  but  she  was  wise  enough  to  feel  that 
their  life,  in  the  midst  of  contrary-minded  men  and 
differing  now  so  widely  from  her  former  life  of  ease,  was 
unwholesome,  and  that  it  could  not  endure.  There  were 
times  when  she  wished  her  father  would  abandon  every- 
thing and  take  her  with  him  out  of  the  country,  yet  she 
knew  it  almost  impossible  to  live  without  this  home 
which  could  not  have  found  a  purchaser,  and  she 
gave  no  utterance  to  her  vain  wishes,  which  she  knew 
were  not  his,  he  being  very  ardently  attached  to  the 
place. 

"  Well,  Jennie,  I'm  to  tell  you  serious  news,"  Mr. 
West  had  said,  as  the  surgeon  began  to  supervise  the 
removal  of  Morgan. 

The  girl  had  known  that  some  important  event  was  in 
the  air  ;  she  laid  her  hand  on  her  father's  coatless  arm, 
and  smiled.  The  faces  were  almost  on  a  level ;  her  form 
was  erect  and  tall ;  her  face  full  of  dignity  unalloyed 
with  any  shade  of  pretence.  She  did  not  speak  —  she 
smiled  assent  and  comfort. 

"  We  have  a  wounded  soldier  to  help  care  for,  for  God 
knows  how  long.  I  should  not  be  distressed  at  all,  but 
that  I  know  it  will  add  to  your  cares  and  your  work.  He 
is  in  a  very  bad  way,  and  it  would  be  brutal  to  refuse, 
even  if  we  had  the  power." 

Miss  West  had  many  times  seen  troops  of  all  arms,  — 
Confederate  and  Federal,  —  she  had  even  seen  them  in 
action,  for  her  home  was  where  the  cavalry  frequently 


40  OLD  SQUIRE 

rode  and  not  unfrequently  fought.  On  this  day  she  had 
seen  cavalry  ride  past ;  she  had  seen  her  father  guide  the 
ambulance. 

"  Father,  of  course  we  must  take  care  of  him.  Which 
side  does  he  belong  to  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  Federal.  There  are  two  to  provide  for,  —  the 
wounded  man  and  a  surgeon." 

Jennie  became  very  busy  with  her  arrangements.  The 
front  room  on  the  west  —  shaded  by  a  great  oak  —  had 
been  chosen  for  Morgan,  the  adjoining  room  for  the  sur- 
geon, who,  however,  insisted  that  all  plans  should  take 
into  account  that  his  place  was  with  his  patient,  and  that 
for  himself  no  apartment  was  necessary. 

It  was  past  the  dinner  hour,  and  Dr.  Lacy  had  not 
dined.  Jennie's  slender  meal  had  long  been  ready.  The 
girl  added  what  she  could,  and  the  three  sat  down. 

"  Miss  West,  this  would  be  a  very  great  pleasure  were 
it  not  for  the  necessity  that  is  upon  us." 

"  You  mean  the  condition  of  the  wounded  man, 
Doctor  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  and  more.  I  mean  of  course,  the  necessity 
for  disturbing  your  manner  of  life.  I  hate  to  do  it.  If 
you  knew  how  I  hate  it,  you  would  pardon  me." 

"  You  need  no  pardon,  Doctor  ;  you  are  doing  no 
wrong.  I  can  imagine  how  you  feel." 

"  If  I  could  only  get  ice." 

"  Ice  ?  "  said  Mr.  West ;  "  you  can  have  as  much  as  you 
want.  I've  got  ice  older  than  you  are  —  ice  that  the 
neighbours  say  has  got  worms  in  it." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?      My  dear  sir,  you  don't  know  what  a 


SANCTUARY  41 

weight  you  take  from  me.  I  can  almost  say  now  that  I 
can  warrant  Morgan's  recovery." 

"  Whose  ?  "  asked  Jennie,  curiously. 

"  Morgan's  —  my  patient's." 

"  Is  he  the  soldier  who  was  at  Mr.  Armstrong's  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Do  you  know  anything  of  him  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  have  never  seen  him  ;  but  I  heard  they 
were  taking  care  of  a  wounded  man  named  Morgan." 

"  They  have  all  gone,"  said  the  surgeon. 

"  Yes,  sir,  they  have  long  wanted  to  go,  and  have  just 
now  found  their  opportunity.  You  saw  nothing  of 
them?" 

"  We  saw  but  one  man  —  a  Confederate  soldier  ;  he 
was  wounded,  too,  to  judge  by  the  bandage  over  his 
face.  He  told  us  that  the  family  had  gone,  and  that  he 
had  remained  to  the  last,  in  order  to  see  that  Morgan  was 
safely  delivered  to  us.  Strange  thing  about  this  business 
is  that  we  were  required  to  come  with  a  flag,  and  yet 
found  no  authority  entitled  to  receive  us  —  nobody  at  all 
except  that  one  man.  I  guess  they  outwitted  us,  but 
for  what  purpose  I  cannot  yet  understand." 

To  all  this  speech  Jennie  said  nothing.  Two  years  of 
war  had  taught  the  girl  prudence,  and  she  felt  that  it  was 
her  father's  place  to  speak,  if  reply  should  be  made. 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  SONG  SIGNAL 

"  Ah,  me !    What  act  that  roars  so  loud, 

And  thunders  in  the  index  ?  " 

— SHAKESPEARE. 

AT  first  Stuart's  march  had  been  southeastward,  begin- 
ning the  movement  which,  in  its  relation  to  the  Confed- 
erate campaign,  has  caused  the  greatest  condemnation  by 
military  men.  Of  course  Stuart's  purpose  was  not  as  yet 
understood  by  his  enemies.  Constantly  overrated  as  the 
Confederates  were,  their  cavalry  division  might  be  the 
curtain  behind  which  heavy  bodies  of  infantry  were  march- 
ing eastward  upon  the  Capital.  Prudence  demanded  that 
the  outlying  Federal  troops  still  south  of  the  Potomac  be 
brought  together  to  resist  the  possible  assault,  and  they 
were  quickly  concentrated  by  order  of  General  Heintzel- 
man,  in  command  of  the  Washington  defences,  and  were 
deployed  across  the  Little  River  pike,  down  which  from 
the  west  the  threatened  attack  seemed  likely  to  come. 
But  Captain  Freeman's  company  found  no  enemy  block- 
ing the  roads,  for  Stuart's  column  had  passed  beyond,  and 
the  captain,  now  deploring  his  inability  under  his  orders 
to  send  back  for  the  surgeon,  pursued  his  way  without 

42 


A  SONG  SIGNAL  43 

hindrance,  or  even  alarm,  and  reached  Centreville,  where 
he  found  orders  requiring  his  immediate  march  to  the 
Potomac  to  rejoin  Stand's  cavalry  division. 

Meantime,  pursuant  to  the  plans  laid  by  Sency,  he  and 
his  two  friends,  after  learning  that  all  of  Hooker's  army 
had  marched  northward,  turned  toward  Gum  Spring,  and 
continued  to  ride  slowly  in  the  hope  of  being  overtaken 
by  Morgan  and  Squire,  who  were  to  ride  directly  north- 
eastward and  join  Sency  before  he  crossed  the  Potomac. 
Taking  Salem  as  his  starting-point,  Stuart  had  marched 
almost  on  the  arc  of  a  circle,  first  southeastward  through 
Glasscock  Gap  and  until  beyond  the  Occoquan,  then 
northward  through  Fairfax  Court-House  to  Rowser's 
Ford.  Although  Morgan's  ride  was  to  be  on  a  chord  of 
Stuart's  arc,  straight  for  Rowser's  Ford,  yet  almost  twenty 
hours  had  passed  between  the  time  of  Sency 's  sending 
Squire  back  to  Morgan  and  Morgan's  start,  and  in  these 
twenty  hours  Stuart  had  crossed  the  river  and  Sency  was 
nearing  it.  Stuart's  ride  from  Salem  to  the  river  was  a 
ride  of  seventy  miles  ;  Morgan's  was  only  thirty  miles, 
but  the  last  of  Stuart's  column  had  crossed  before  Morgan 
and  Squire  started. 

Sency  knew  the  danger  of  waiting.  He  knew  that  just 
so  soon  as  the  Federals  should  learn  that  the  column  had 
crossed,  they  would  follow  its  rear,  endeavouring  to  pick 
up  stragglers,  to  cut  the  column  off  from  the  south,  to 
harass  its  rear  in  every  way  possible.  The  case  looked 
gloomy  to  Sency.  It  looked  as  though  he  must  choose 
between  deserting  his  friend  and  being  almost  certainly 
captured  by  the  enemy.  The  three  men  had  spent  the 


44  OLD  SQUIRE 

night  in  the  forest ;  they  had  this  day  moved  cautiously, 
skirting  the  roads,  riding  through  hollows,  keeping  sharp 
watch  at  all  times,  and  on  the  hills  pausing  long  and 
examining  the  ground  in  fear  of  seeing  dust  rising  from 
the  march  of  their  enemies  already  cutting  them  off  from 
Stuart. 

Armstrong  was  too  moody  to  talk ;  Lewis  was  never 
moody  —  just  the  opposite  now  —  for  he  had  abundant 
confidence  in  Sency's  ability.  Sency  himself  doubted  not 
that  Morgan  would  come,  though  he  feared  the  coming 
would  be  so  late  that  they  would  find  all  the  river  fords 
in  the  power  of  the  enemy  following  Stuart ;  yet,  as  he 
neared  the  Potomac,  his  hopes  rose,  for  here  he  was  sure 
that  he  was  following  Stuart's  column,  known  by  the 
tracks  of  many  unshod  hoofs. 

Three  miles  from  the  river  a  by-road  running  northeast 
enters  the  road  to  the  Potomac;  at  the  junction  Sency 
halted. 

"Here's  the  last  chance,  Joe." 

"  George,  I'm  a-thinkin'  that  Dan  won't  git  here  much 
before  midnight.  He'll  want  all  this  mornin'  before  he 
starts.  If  he  started  before  noon,  he  might  git  here  before 
night ;  but  then,  you  know,  he  might  have  to  ride  in 
a  roundabout  way.  I  don't  think  he'll  git  here  much 
before  midnight."  Fully  fifty  times  had  Joe  Lewis  made, 
on  this  day,  a  similar  utterance. 

"He'll  ride  like  hell,"  said  Armstrong. 

"  It  won't  do  to  stand  here,  boys,"  and  Sency  led  the 
way  into  the  bushes  and  dismounted. 

"  Suppose  I  go  back  on  that  road  a  mile  or  two,"  sug- 


A  SONG  SIGNAL  45 

gested  Armstrong,  to  whom  action  was  a  necessity;  "I 
might  meet  'em  coming." 

"  Your  ride  would  be  useless.  They'll  get  here  just 
as  soon  by  your  staying,"  replied  Sency. 

"  Then  suppose  I  ride  on  to  the  ford  and  see  if  it's  all 
right?" 

"  Won't  it  be  night  by  the  time  you  get  there  ?  Can 
you  see  anything?"  Sency  asked. 

"No,  it  won't  be  dark.  I  think  I'd  better  do  it, 
George.  I  can  get  up  close  and  maybe  see  the  other 
side.  Then  we'll  know  better  what  to  count  on." 

"  All  right,  Armstrong.  But  be  careful,  my  friend  — 
don't  be  too  risky.  Find  out  what  you  can ;  but  be  sure 
you  look  to  your  rear  ;  and  you'd  better  stay  down  there 
till  we  come." 

Armstrong  mounted  and  rode  north. 

"  If  he  don't  git  into  some  kind  of  a  row,  it'll  be  a 
God's  wonder,"  said  Joe. 

"  Sh-h-h  !  "  whispered  his  comrade. 

Southward  on  the  road  over  which  they  had  lately 
ridden  a  thin  dust  was  rising.  In  a  second  hoofs  were 
heard.  Expectation  became  painful.  Was  it  possible 
that  Morgan's  route  had  merged  into  their  own  road  far 
below  this  point  ?  Neither  man  spoke,  but  they  looked 
by  instants  into  each  other's  eyes,  and  by  instants  up  the 
road.  Sency  knelt  down,  to  see  better  beneath  the  limbs 
of  the  trees.  The  sounds  kept  coming,  louder  and 
louder,  and  now  Sency  felt  that  more  than  two  horses 
were  making  all  that  noise,  and  Joe  could  see  by  George's 
face  that  suspense  had  changed  to  disappointment. 


46  OLD  SQUIRE 

Six  Federal  cavalrymen  passed  north  on  the  road. 

The  two  men  again  looked  into  each  other's  eyes  ;  the 
thought  of  one  was  the  thought  of  both  —  how  to  warn 
Armstrong. 

"  I  better  go,  George  ;  I  can  fetch  a  bend  an'  strike 
him,  I'm  a-thinkin'." 

"  No,  Joe  ;  I'm  afraid  they'd  hear  you." 

"  Then  I  believe  I'll  ride  out  after  them  fellers  an'  fire 
off  my  carbine.  Charley'll  hear  it  an'll  know  some'h'm's 
up." 

"  Wait.  Don't  be  in  too  big  a  hurry.  Armstrong  may 
find  out  without  —  Sh-h-h  ! "  and  Sency  crouched  low 
again. 

On  the  road  there  was  no  dust  rising,  —  the  branch 
road  to  the  southwest,  —  but  there  came  again  the  sound 
of  hoof  beats,  rapid  ones,  and  fewer,  and  coming  from  far, 
and  Joe  knelt  by  George's  side  in  an  agony  of  hope.  The 
sound  of  the  gallop  continued  to  come,  and  louder  it 
grew,  and  the  dust  now  rose  in  their  sight,  and  with  bated 
breath  and  joints  all  stiff  the  men  saw  first  a  curling 
mane,  and  a  horse's  head,  and  then  Joe  Lewis  broke  out 
loud  :  — 

"  Morgan  !    Goddomighty,  all  hell  couldn't  hold  him  !  " 

"  Heaven,  you'd  better  say,"  laughed  George. 

Sency  handed  Lewis  his  bridle  and  rushed  to  the  road. 

"Morgan,  Armstrong  has  gone  to  the  ford,  and  six 
Yankees  are  following  him.  They  passed  here  not  five 
minutes  ago." 

Old  Squire  had  come  up,  and  had  heard.  Lewis  had 
come  up. 


A  SONG  SIGNAL  47 

"  We  must  follow  the  Yankees  at  once,  and  see  what 
they're  made  out  of, "  exclaimed  Morgan.  His  tone 
was  anxious  but  decided. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Sency,  "  that's  not  good  policy ;  we 
want  no  trouble  ;  our  business  is  to  get  across  the  river. 
What  I  fear  is  that  Armstrong  will  cause  an  alarm,  so 
that  we  shall  be  guarded  against." 

"How  long  since  he  left?"  demanded  Sergeant 
Morgan. 

"Not  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"Got  ten  minutes'  start?" 

"  Hardly." 

"Were  they  riding  faster  than  he  was?" 

"  No,  but  before  he  gets  in  sight  of  the  river  he'll  slow 
up,  and  I'm  afraid  the  road  runs  between  fences  down 
there." 

"  Mahs  Dan,  I  got  to  go  awn,"  said  Squire  ;  "I  dess 
got  to  go  awn." 

"  Go  where,  Squire  ?  " 

"I  got  to  go  awn  an'  see  'bout  my  Mahs  Chahley." 

"  The  very  thing  !  "  exclaimed  Sency.  "  Squire,  you 
ride  on  until  you  see  the  Yankees  ;  then  —  " 

"  Yassah,  you  dess  leave  'em  to  me,  sah ;  I'll  fix  'em. 
I'll  tell  Mahs  Chahley  dey's  a-comin'  —  an'  dey  won't 
know  it  notheh  —  dat  dey  won't." 

"  I  see,"  said  Morgan  ;  "  and  we'll  ride  as  near  you  as 
we  can,  Squire.  Go  ahead,  old  fellow." 

The  negro  started  at  a  gallop. 

"  What  is  he  up  to,  George  ? "  asked  Joe,  wonder- 
ingly. 


48  OLD  SQUIRE 

"Don't  exactly  know  his  plans,  Joe;  but  I'm  confident 
he'll  find  some  way  to  tell  Armstrong  to  look  out." 

The  three  men  rode  northward,  following  the  negro  at 
such  a  distance  as  only  to  keep  him  in  view.  When  the 
road  turned  and  Squire  disappeared,  Morgan's  men  has- 
tened until  again  they  could  see  the  old  man,  who  even 
yet  was  at  a  gallop.  And  now  another  short  stretch  of 
the  road  was  before  them,  and  they  saw  Squire  abruptly 
draw  rein,  and  ride  into  a  fence  corner.  When  he  ap- 
peared again  he  was  afoot,  running  down  the  road. 

When  Morgan  reached  the  bend,  nothing  could  be  seen 
in  front.  The  sun  had  set,  and  the  negro  was  far  down 
the  road.  They  moved  on,  Joe  Lewis  leading  Squire's 
horse. 

Squire  had  seen  the  backs  of  the  Federals ;  he  had 
known  that  mounted  he  could  get  no  nearer  undiscovered, 
and  that  the  horse  would  excite  suspicion.  The  old  man 
was  tough,  but  it  was  a  hard  run  to  overtake  horses  now 
at  a  trot ;  yet  at  last  he  saw  one  of  the  soldiers  turn  in 
the  saddle,  and  at  once  halt,  the  others  moving  forward, 
but  turning  one  by  one  and  halting.  Still  old  Squire  ran 
on. 

"  Say,  what  the  dickens  is  the  row?  " 

"Mahsta!  .  .  .  Mahsta!  .  .  .  you's  a-gwine  to — Yassah! 
.  .  .  you's  a-gwine  to,"  gasped  the  old  man,  truly  lacking 
breath  and  pausing  at  every  word.  "  Yassah,  you's 
a-gwine  to  go  de  wrong  way,  sah !  " 

"  What's  that  he  says  ?  "  shouted  the  foremost  man. 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha !  Says  we're  going  the  wrong  way,  Cor- 
poral." 


A  SONG  SIGNAL  49 

The  men  collected  about  Squire.  "What  do  you  mean, 
man  ?  Speak  out,"  said  the  leader. 

The  negro  could  see  many  expressions  in  the  faces  before 
him  —  expressions  of  ridicule,  fear,  doubt  and  hesitation, 
indifference,  surprise. 

"  Mahsta,  de  Conf eddick  sojehs  is  gawn  down  dat  a- way. 
Dey's  done  went  down  to  de  fohd." 

"  Oh,  well,  we  know  that ;  but  they've  all  gone  across. 
Much  obliged  to  you  all  the  same,  Uncle,"  said  the  corpo- 
ral, a  fat  young  fellow  smartly  adorned  and  graceful,  with 
evident  pride  in  his  own  manners. 

"  But,  Mahsta,  I  done  seed  'em  ;  I  done  seed  mo'e  of 
'em,  sah  —  seed  'em  wi'  my  own  eyes." 

"  When  did  you  see  them  ?  "  the  corporal  demanded. 

"  Dey  was  in  de  fawks  o'  de  road,  sah,  an'  dey  rid 
down  dis  a- way  ;  I  seed  'em,  sah  ;  hit  was  dess  fo'e  sun- 
down." 

This  startling  bit  of  news  clearly  made  a  change  in  the 
corporal's  estimate  of  the  situation. 

"  Are  there  any  of  them  in  our  rear  —  behind  us  ?  " 

"I  b'lieve  dey  is,  sah,  onless  hit  mought  be  dat  dey 
tuhned  roun'  an'  rid  back,  sah ;  an'  dey  done  scouted  down 
dis  road,  an'  ef  you  don't  mine  you  gwine  to  run  up  awn 
'em  —  you  gwine  to  heah  de  bullets  a-comin'  at  shu  ef  you 
goes  awn  —  tek  my  wohd,  Mahsta,  an'  go  mighty  slow." 

"  How  far  is  it  to  the  river,  Jim  ?  " 

"  Not  much  over  a  mile,  Corporal." 

"  There  can  be  no  harm  in  being  cautious.  Old  man, 
how  many  did  you  see  ?  " 

Squire  hated  to  lie,  but  he  cared  little  for  a  lie  that 


50  OLD  SQUIRE 

stood  between  himself  and  Armstrong's  advantage.  Yet 
he  compromised. 

"Fo'e  de  Lawd,  sah,  I  didn't  see  but  one,  'caze  I  was 
a-peepin'  th'ough  de  bresh,  Mahsta ;  an'  de  good  book  hit 
say  dat  whah  one  man  is  geathehed  togeatheh,  dey  is  mo'e 
of  'em  a-comin'  dah,  an'  I  heahed  'em  a-comin'  —  dess  a 
gallinup  an'  a  gallinup.  Dah  now !  I  heahed  'em  ag'in ; 
don't  shu  heah  ?  De  good  book  hit  say  you  got  sheahs 
an'  you  don't  sheah." 

In  truth  the  corporal  had  heard  ;  the  sound  of  hoofs 
had  been  distinct,  but  had  died  away  as  Armstrong's  horse 
trod  soft  ground  not  three  hundred  yards  ahead. 

"  Which  way  was  that  ?  "  he  asked,  somewhat  nervously. 

"  Right  down  the  road,"  answered  one  of  the  men.  "  I 
guess  they  are  our  people." 

"  I  don't  know  so  much  about  that.  Old  man,  you've 
got  to  obey  my  orders,  or  I'll  string  you  up." 

"  Oh,  Mahsta  !  Wat  shu  gwine  to  do  wid  ole  Squiah  ? 
Wen  I  done  come  to  he'p  you  out,  den  you  gwine  to  do 
me  dat  a-way  ?  I's  a-gwine  right  back  —  dat  I  is ! "  and 
the  old  man  turned. 

But  one  of  the  troopers  blocked  the  way.  "  Halt,  and 
don't  you  be  so  damned  uppish.  Nobody's  goin'  to  hurt 
you,  if  you'll  just  behave  yourself." 

The  corporal  must  have  given  further  consideration  to 
the  necessity  of  serving  a  friend  in  a  friendly  way ;  he 
said  more  mildly :  "  Old  man,  march  straight  down  this 
road,  and  get  as  near  the  river  as  you  can.  Even  if  the 
rebels  are  there,  they  won't  hurt  you." 

Perhaps  it  was  well  for  Squire  that  darkness  had  almost 


A  SONG  SIGNAL  51 

come,  and  that  his  face  could  not  be  clearly  seen.  The 
corporal's  plan  was  of  the  negro's  devising,  though  the 
soldier  took  all  the  credit  for  the  campaign.  Yet  it 
would  not  do  to  accede  too  readily. 

"  Den  w'at  shu  gwine  to  gim  me  ?  "  asked  the  old  man. 

"  Well,  I  guess  we'll  say  a  dollar  ;  won't  we,  men  ?  " 

The  men  quickly  assented  ;  under  the  circumstances, 
the  small  contribution  required  of  each  would  be  well 
invested. 

Old  Squire's  spirits  rose  ;  he  laughed  loud  and  long, 
loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  Morgan  and  his  men,  loud 
enough  to  have  been  heard  by  Armstrong,  had  he  been 
alert  toward  the  rear.  The  old  man  started  down  the 
road,  laughing  over  the  easy-to-earn  dollar.  The  cor- 
poral tried  to  restrain  the  negro's  merriment,  but  Squire 
replied  that  he  would  be  in  less  danger  by  signalling  his 
approach,  to  which  statement  the  soldier  mentally  agreed 
so  far  as  possible  danger  concerned  the  negro  himself, 
but  deemed  it  wise  to  follow  this  noisy  scout  at  a  sure 
distance. 

Presently  old  Squire  raised  his  voice  in  song.  One  of 
the  old-time  melodies,  half  sacrilegious  and  at  this  moment 
wholly  hypocritical,  rolled  out  on  the  night,  the  words 
undistinguishable  to  any  but  familiar  ears. 

"  Sisteh  Mary,  whah  izh  you  ? 

Whah  izh  you? 
Sisteh  Mary,  whah  izh  you  ? 
He's  bawn  de  king  o'  de  Jews ! 

"  Baptis',  Baptis',  is  my  name, 
He's  bawn  de  king  o'  de  Jews  1 


52  OLD  SQUIRE 

Baptis',  Baptis',  is  my  name, 
He's  bawn  de  king  o'  de  Jews  1 

"  Mahs  Chahley,  whah  izh  you? 

Whah  izh  you? 
Mahs  Chahley,  whah  izh  you? 
He's  bawn  de  king  o'  de  Jews  1 

"  Yankee,  Yankee,  dat's  dey  name, 

Dey's  a-comin'  right  behime ; 
Yankee,  Yankee,  six  o'  seben, 
Dey's  a-ridin'  right  behime  I 

"  Mahs  Chahley,  betteh  pray ! 

He's  bawn  de  king  o'  de  Jews  I 
Mahs  Dan  he  say  go  way ! 

He's  bawn  de  king  o'  de  Jews  1 " 

Far  down  the  road  Armstrong  had  heard  and  recog- 
nized the  tune,  though  not  the  words  ;  and  through  some 
uncomprehended  influence  he  halted  and  hearkened. 
But  he  had  not  reached  the  slope  that  goes  down  to 
the  river,  and  his  halt  was  brief  —  he  must  go  on  ;  he 
feared  that  he  was  too  late  to  see  the  ford,  yet  if  enemies 
were  there  he  hoped  to  see  their  camp-fires  on  either 
side.  He  went  slowly  forward,  the  song  continuing  to 
reach  his  ears,  —  for  the  singer  prolonged  the  chorus, 
repeating  and  repeating, — and  once  he  fancied  that  the 
words  had  been  distorted.  He  reached  the  brow  of  the 
hill,  and  dismounted  ;  he  would  tie  his  horse  here,  out- 
side the  road,  and  go  forward  afoot.  He  could  see 
nothing  in  front  except  a  sunken  zone  of  darker  gloom, 
where  the  river  valley  lay  —  no  camp-fires,  no  light  in 
any  dwelling.  The  fence  at  his  right  was  of  stone,  that 


A  SONG  SIGNAL  53 

at  his  left  of  rails  ;  he  went  to  the  left  .  .  .  was  not  the 
singer  approaching?  Surely  the  voice  was  louder  and 
clearer,  the  voice  of  some  negro  coming,  and  who  would 
soon  be  here.  This  soldier  feared  no  negro,  but  he 
knew  the  necessity  for  secrecy  —  negroes  were  friends  to 
the  Yankees,  and  if  one  should  see  him  here,  his  plans 
would  be  upset.  He  began  to  take  down  the  rails, 
still  keeping  bridle  in  hand.  He  would  hide  his  horse 
in  some  thicket ;  he  would  let  this  negro  pass. 

And  now  the  voice  came  loud,  and  Armstrong  worked 
fast  to  let  down  the  gap,  and  the  words  were  clearer,  and 
he  knew  Squire's  voice  and  some  of  the  words,  and  such 
wonder  took  hold  of  him  that  for  a  moment  he  well-nigh 
ceased  to  work,  but  already  the  gap  was  almost  low 
enough,  and  he  passed  through  just  as  a  man  marched 
by  singing  clearly,  but  now  not  so  loudly  :  — 

"  Mahs  Chahley,  git  away ! 

He's  bawn  de  king  o'  de  Jews  1 
Git  in  de  bresh  an'  stay ! 

He's  bawn  de  king  o'  de  Jews !  " 

Armstrong  led  his  horse  rapidly  from  the  road,  and 
tied  him  ;  then  he  crept  back,  hearing,  as  he  came,  the 
sound  of  marching  horses,  too  numerous  for  those  of  his 
friends,  and  hearing  still  the  voice  of  old  Squire  singing 
in  the  distant  front.  The  Confederate  saw  and  counted 
his  enemies  as  they  rode  by  his  hiding-place  ;  he  knew 
that  Morgan  had  come  and  was  near  at  hand  ;  he  under- 
stood the  negro's  stratagem,  and  saw  how  the  distorted 
song  had  been  employed  for  his  own  salvation 


CHAPTER  V 

DELINQUENCY 

"  Pryde  will  have  a  fall ; 
For  pryde  goeth  before  and  shame  cometh  after." 

—  HEYWOOD. 

IT  was  not  so  dark  that  Armstrong  was  unable  to  see 
the  three  riders  who  soon  appeared  opposite  his  hiding- 
place  in  the  fence  corner.  As  he  lay  flat,  he  knew  Mor- 
gan's form  outlined  against  the  sky,  and  Sency's  smaller 
frame,  and  Joe  Lewis's  long  legs  —  one  of  them  at  least  — 
and  knew  also  Squire's  horse  led  by  Lewis  in  the  rear. 
They  were  moving  slowly,  not  abreast,  but  strung  out 
along  the  road  with  spaces  of  many  feet  between.  Arm- 
strong gave  a  low  whistle,  and  as  they  halted  spoke  out, 
"  Boys,  ride  through  the  gap."  They  obeyed  ;  he  put  up 
the  gap,  and  led  to  the  thicket.  The  horses  were  grazed 
—  no  telling  how  long  they  must  wait  for  Squire. 

Meantime  the  negro's  song  had  died  away.  As  he  ap- 
proached the  river,  his  fears,  relieved  in  regard  to  his 
young  master,  took  larger  scope.  Would  the  Federals 
suspect  ?  When  they  should  get  to  the  river,  and  the 
guards  there  should  say  that  no  Confederates  had  recently 
been  seen,  would  not  this  corporal  and  his  men  scour  the 
woods  for  the  party  whose  nearness  the  negro  had  pro- 

64 


DELINQUENCY  55 

claimed  ?  Yes,  the  guards  would  tell  the  corporal  that 
they  had  been  at  the  ford  for  hours,  and  that  no  enemy 
had  shown  himself,  and  then  Squire  would  be  suspected 
of  having  made  false  report  for  a  purpose.  Ought  he  not 
to  slip  away  ?  If  he  should  be  seriously  questioned,  —  and 
surely  he  would  be,  —  there  would  seem  no  way  for  his 
vindication  except  by  stoutly  maintaining  that  the  party 
of  rebels  were  still  lurking  near,  or  had  ridden  along  the 
river  seeking  to  cross  at  some  unguarded  spot,  and  this 
defence  of  himself  was  an  alternative  too  near  the  truth, 
too  dangerous  to  his  master.  Oh,  yes,  all  he  had  to  do 
was  to  step  aside  in  the  darkness,  and  let  the  soldiers  go 
on  ;  but  they  would  go  on,  and  would  soon  learn  of  his 
abandoning  them,  and  would  suspect  the  truth  and  would 
search,  and  then  it  would  be  almost  impossible  for  Mor- 
gan's men  to  cross  the  river.  No,  Squire  would  endure 
much  before  bringing  such  a  condition  to  pass  .  .  .  be- 
sides, he  wanted  that  dollar. 

Poor  old  Squire  was  in  a  close  place.  He  felt  the  con- 
traction ;  it  had  already  closed  his  voice  ;  it  began  to 
affect  his  legs.  Behind  him  he  could  hear  the  soldiers 
coming  —  gaining  on  him  ;  if  he  was  ever  to  run,  now 
was  the  time. 

But  Squire  did  not  run  ;  he  halted ;  so  did  the  corporal, 
and  the  men  in  his  rear. 

The  corporal  halted  because  he  saw  that  the  negro  had 
halted  ;  the  corporal  wanted  to  know  why  the  negro  had 
halted,  but  the  case  demanded  silence  ;  the  soldier  dared 
not  speak,  for  there  stood  the  negro,  stock  still  in  the 
road,  evidently  fearing  something  in  his  front. 


56  OLD  SQUIRE 

The  corporal  rode  back  to  his  first  man.  "  Jim,"  said 
he,  in  a  low  tone,  "  dismount  and  go  forward  and  find  out 
what  the  man  means  by  not  going  ahead." 

Jim  obeyed  at  once.  He  halted  ten  paces  in  rear  of  the 
negro,  and  asked  :  "  What's  the  matter  ?  Why  don't  you 
go  on  ?  " 

For  all  response  Squire  merely  pointed  straight  down 
the  road. 

Jim  looked  with  all  his  eyes,  but  could  see  nothing  to 
get  alarmed  at.  "  What  is  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"I  b'lieve  hit's  cows,  but  den  ag'in  hit  mought  be 
bosses,  sah.  Won't  shu  please,  sah,  go  awn  down  dah  an' 
see  w'at  dey  is  ?  " 

And  now  the  soldier,  more  clearly  directed  to  the  spot 
under  suspicion,  could  see  objects  dimly  prominent  against 
a  background  almost  equally  dark. 

"  They  are  bushes,"  he  said. 

"  No,  sah ;  I  done  seed  'em  move  about  —  dah  now  ! 
you  heah  dem  cows  ?  "  and  the  darky,  forced  by  a  gentle 
lowing  to  admit  what  he  had  already  known  well  enough, 
began  to  march  forward  again,  having  succeeded  in  gain- 
ing a  little  time,  in  spreading  greater  nervousness  in  his 
guardians,  and  perhaps  in  causing  them  to  feel  stronger 
confidence  in  their  scout. 

But  Squire's  confidence  in  his  ability  to  dehorn  the 
dilemma  had  become  no  greater  ;  yet  a  feeble  hope  was 
beginning  to  flutter  in  his  breast,  that,  so  near  the  river, 
and  still  unable  to  see  men  or  camps,  they  would  find  the 
ford  unguarded.  Why  were  they  not  challenged  ?  The 
river  was  at  their  left ;  the  ford  was  just  down  the  bank, 


DELINQUENCY  57 

and  at  neither  right  nor  left  did  any  fire  show,  nor  did 
any  noise  reveal  the  presence  of  enemy  or  friend. 

At  every  step  Squire's  hopes  grew  rapidly,  and  when 
he  stood  at  the  mouth  of  the  ford,  and  knew  there  was  no 
guard,  he  felt  that  his  case  was  good. 

"  Come  awn  down,  Mahsta,"  he  cried  cheerfully ;  "  dey 
is  all  done  went  acrawst." 

In  his  rear  fifty  yards  the  Federal  horsemen  had 
halted  ;  the  corporal  ordered  to  dismount,  and  he  alone 
rode  forward  to  the  negro's  position  on  the  verge  of  the 
stream.  Squire  was  kneeling. 

"  Yassah,  heah's  de  hufs ;  dey's  all  dess  a-pintin' 
acrawst ;  an'  heah's  fresh  uns,  too  ;  dey  ain't  full  o'  no 
wateh  yit,  but  de  ole  uns  is  done  fulled  up.  I  'spec'  dem 
dat  went  acrawst  fust  is  done  got  fifty  mile  by  dis  time. 
Ef  you  all  is  a-gwine  acrawst,  Mahsta,  now's  de  time." 

"  Not  yet ;  we  are  to  guard  the  ford  until  —  "  and  the 
corporal  abruptly  ended  his  speech,  remembering  that  his 
orders  were  not  to  be  divulged. 

The  negro's  disappointment  was  so  great  that  he  came 
dangerously  near  self-betrayal ;  but  the  exclamatipn  forced 
from  his  lips  found  excuse  in  a  pretence  of  losing  his  foot- 
hold and  almost  measuring  his  length  in  the  mud. 

"  Good  Lawd  !  now  I  done  done  it.  I  sho'  thought 
I's  a-gwine  into  de  ribeh." 

"  Where's  the  nearest  house  ?  "  asked  the  corporal. 

Squire  did  not  know,  but  he  knew  that  he  must  know, 
for  he  had  been  accepted  as  a  near  resident. 

"  Didn't  shu  see  dem  cows,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"Yes." 


58  OLD   SQUIRE 

"  Dey  b'longs  to  Mis'  Jones's,  sah  ;  leastways  I  'spec' 
so,  sah,  up  awn  de  hill  'bout  a  mile  back,  but  dey  is  some 
ole  houses  down  in  de  bottom,  sah  ;  leastways  dey  was 
dah  oncet,  an'  dey  mus'  be  dah  yit  ef  de  freshet  ain't 
done  washed  'em  away,  sah." 

The  corporal  rode  back  to  his  men,  Squire  following 
timidly. 

"  Give  me  a  dime  apiece,  boys  ;  I'll  stand  half  of  it." 

The  negro  was  profuse  in  thanks  ;  hat  off,  he  bowed 
and  scraped  and  lingered  and  talked,  lingered  and  talked, 
until  he  saw  one  man  posted  on  the  river  bank,  another 
stationed  to  guard  the  rear,  and  the  others  preparing  to 
rest  under  the  trees.  Then  he  bade  the  corporal  good-by, 
and  started  back  on  his  road,  chuckling  agreeably,  patting 
his  pocket  to  hear  his  well-earned  coins  jingle,  humming 
softly  at  times  —  humming  "Rutheh  be  a  niggeh  dan  a 
po'  w'ite  man." 

But  the  leaf  had  not  yet  been  turned  on  which  Squire 
John's  name  had  been  written  in  that  night's  book  of 
fate  ;  before  he  could  reach  his  friends  he  must  be  an 
actor  in  an  adventure  difficult  for  him,  in  his  present 
state  of  mind,  to  foresee  or  to  avoid.  The  corporal  and 
his  men  were  merely  an  extra  force  sent  in  advance  of 
Captain  Freeman's  company,  which,  having  reached 
Dranesville  with  horses  greatly  fatigued,  had  been  ordered 
to  proceed  to  Rowser's  Ford,  and  march  to  Frederick  on 
the  morrow,  leaving  a  picket  at  the  river.  Freeman's 
march  must  necessarily  be  slow,  and  fresher  men  and 
horses  had  been  sent  forward  to  picket  the  ford  until  he 
should  arrive. 


DELINQUENCY  59 

The  negro  had  made  half  the  distance  back  to  the  gap 
through  which  Armstrong  had  escaped,  when  he  heard 
noises  in  his  front ;  he  stopped  to  listen  ;  soon  he  knew 
that  horsemen  were  approaching,  —  a  small  squad  by  the 
sound,  —  certainly  not  more  than  three  or  four.  It  would 
have  been  prudence  for  Squire  to  step  aside  and  let  the 
men  pass  on,  but  alas  !  pride  in  suddenly  acquired  wealth 
had  destroyed  his  usual  sense  of  relations.  Ordinarily, 
he  would  have  roughly  and  intuitively  compared  chances 
—  those  favouring  the  approach  of  his  friends,  and  those 
against ;  but  in  his  present  state  of  elation  his  mind  was 
sealed  against  adverse  possibility  ;  he  never  doubted  that 
the  coming  horsemen  were  Mahs  Chahley  and  his  com- 
rades, and  walked  boldly  forward  into  the  presence  of 
Freeman's  advance  guard. 

"  Halt !  "  came  abruptly  from  a  voice  new  to  the  negro, 
almost  above  him,  for  he  had  but  turned  a  bend  to  find 
himself  confronted  by  four  strange  horsemen. 

"Who  are  you?  Give  an  account  of  yourself.  No; 
take  him  back  to  the  captain,  O'Donnell ;  we  must 
ride  on." 

"  Oh,  Mahsta,  I  ain't  nobody,  sah,  but  ole  Squiah.  I 
dess  now  be'n  down  to  de  fohd,  sah,  to  show  'em  de  way  ; 
dat's  all,  sah." 

"  Bedad,  and  Oi  know  that  v'ice,"  said  O'Donnell. 
"Ye're  the  same  ould  man  who  tould  us  about  Margan 
lahst  noight.  How  the  hell  did  ye  get  here  so  quick  ? 
Hwat're  ye  doing  here,  now  ?  " 

Although  it  was  too  dark  in  the  woods  to  see  faces, 
Squire  knew  at  once  that  a  denial  would  be  but  vanity. 


60  OLD  SQUIRE 

"Yassah.  Oh,  Mahsta,  I's  so  proud  to  come  up  wid 
ju  ag'in  —  dat  I  is.  You  come  an'  tuck  Mahs  Dan  — 
dess  as  I  axed  you  to  —  dat  shu  did,  an'  I  hopes  he's  a- 
gwine  to  git  well  now,  feh  de  good  book  hit  say  de  Lawd 
kin  save  forn  de  pleg  awn  thing  dat  shu  ketches  in  de 
night  —  " 

"  Oh,  shut  up  that.  —  And  you  too,  O'Donnell,  take 
him  back.  But  hold  on,  one  second.  —  Old  man,  how 
many  of  our  men  are  at  the  ford  ?  " 

"  Six,  sah  ;  dey  is  good  men,  too,  sah  ;  dey  gim  me  a 
dollah  feh  waitin'  awn 'em,  sah." 

Between  question  and  answer  there  had  been  but  the 
hesitation  of  the  smallest  measure  of  time,  Squire 
considering  and  resolving  instantly  that  here  the  truth 
would  serve  him  —  yet  the  sergeant  had  noticed  the 
hesitation  —  more  perhaps  by  the  trembling  utterance 
of  the  negro's  first  words  in  reply  than  by  the  lapse 
itself. 

"  Damn  him ;  —  O'Donnell,  take  him  back  —  Forward !  " 
and  three  men  marched  on,  leaving  the  negro  guarded  by 
the  vedette  whom  he  had  approached  on  the  preceding 
night,  near  the  Aldie  road,  thirty  miles  away. 

Since  ten  in  the  forenoon  O'Donnell  had  ridden  almost 
without  a  halt.  He  had  come  through  Hopewell  Gap  to 
Centre  ville  ;  thence  to  Dranesville  by  sunset ;  thence  to 
this  spot,  almost  fifty  miles  in  all.  He  did  not  take 
Squire  back,  but  stood  where  he  was.  He  would  wait  for 
the  company  to  come  up. 

"  Ould  man,  I'm  damned  but  ye're  in  a  bad  shape 
intirely.  Better  make  a  clane  breast  of  ut  now.  Ye 


DELINQUENCY  81 

may  take  yer  Boible  oath  Captain  Frayman's  not  a-going 
to  shtand  anny  nons'nse." 

"  Mahsta,  I  ain't  done  nothin'  wrong.  All  I  done  was 
to  show  de  men  de  way  to  de  fohd.  Izh  you  all 
Confeddicks  ?  " 

"  The  divil !  You  know  well  enough  hwat  we  are. 
And  was  thirn  ribels  it  was  that  ye  wint  with  to  the 
ford?" 

"  No,  Mahsta,  I  went  wid  de  Feddicks  to  de  fohd  —  de 
good  Lincum  sojehs,  sah.  Dey'll  tell  you  all  about  it, 
sah.  I  seed  dem  dah  Confeddicks  a-ridin'  down  de  road, 
an'  I  tole  yo'  men,  sah,  an'  dey  gim  me  a  dollah,  sah,  to 
go  wid  'em  an'  fine  out  ef  de  Confeddicks  is  done  got 
acrawst,  sah  —  dat's  all." 

The  tone  of  innocence  was  well-nigh  convincing,  but 
O'Donnell's  heart  was  hard  against  this  man  that  seemed 
almost  independent  of  locality. 

"Tell  yer  tale  to  Captain  Frayman  —  here  he  comes 
now,"  and  the  steady  tramp  of  many  hoofs  warned  the 
negro  that  his  time  for  action  was  brief.  Terror  had 
gained  on  Squire.  It  needs  not  to  be  professed  that  he 
was  no  consistent,  invariable  hero.  Born  subject  to  the 
influence  of  detrimental  heredity,  the  germ  of  his  individ- 
ual merit  might  never  be  developed,  personal  want  and 
personal  fears  clamouring  so  continually  that  time  lacked 
for  enlargement  of  worthier  considerations  ;  then,  too, 
Squire  was  no  Confederate — he  was  simply  an  Arm- 
strong, a  humble  member  of  a  family  whose  heads  had 
been  gods  and  goddesses  from  their  birth,  his  hierarchy 
of  palpable  divinities  to  whom  he  and  his  fathers  and  his 


62  OLD  SQUIRE 

children's  children  were  bound  by  a  fate  whose  justice 
was  unquestioned  and  unquestionable.  At  this  moment 
the  negro's  fears  had  blotted  old  Judy,  and  even  the 
Armstrongs,  from  his  mind :  he  thought  of  nothing  but 
his  own  mortal  peril,  and  of  device  for  escape.  The  sol- 
dier confronted  him  with  drawn  revolver  ;  the  distance 
was  not  six  feet,  and  the  captive  had  been  made  to  stand 
in  the  open  road.  The  old  man  feared  wounds  and 
death;  possibly  he  could  run  into  the  bushes  and  get 
away  before  the  soldier  could  empty  his  pistol,  but  he 
lacked  the  courage  to  try  it.  Yet  the  noise  of  the  ad- 
vancing cavalry  was  constantly  loudening  —  he  must  run 
now,  or  must  risk  the  rope  for  having  betrayed  the  Union 
soldiers.  He  made  a  great  resolve  —  he  would  run.  .  .  . 

"  And  who  is  ut  ye  belong  to  ?  "  asked  O'Donnell. 

"  Mahs  Chahley,"  came  the  prompt  reply  ;  but  earlier 
still  had  come  the  negro's  return  to  the  actual  relations 
of  his  life,  and  to  the  recognition  of  the  fact  that  he  lived 
not  unto  himself  alone.  No,  he  settled  it  there,  in  that 
moment,  that  he  could  not  run  ;  to  escape  would  be  to 
put  Mahs  Chahley  in  danger  ;  he  must  submit  and  wait, 
and  endeavour  yet  to  mislead  his  master's  enemies. 

The  company  halted.  O'Donnell  reported  to  the 
captain  ;  "  The  same  ould  naygur  we  had  lahst  noight, 
sor,"  he  said. 

"  Yassah,  I's  de  same  man,  Mahsta ;  but  I  ain't  a- 
doin'  no  hahm,  sah." 

"  How  did  you  get  here  ?  "  asked  Freeman. 

"I  dess  come,  sah,  to  git  to  see  one  o'  my  chillun, 
sah." 


DELINQUENCY  63 

"  O'Donnell,  does  Sergeant  Walker  preserve  his 
distance  ?  " 

"He  does,  sor." 

"Bring  this  man  along  with  you  in  the  rear,  and  re- 
port to  me  at  the  ford.  Be  sure  he  doesn't  give  you  the 
slip,"  and  the  company  marched  on,  leaving  old  Squire 
yet  under  guard  of  O'Donnell. 

To  the  ford  it  was  but  half  a  mile.  On  arriving,  the 
company  replaced  the  former  guards  with  greater  num- 
bers ;  then  the  tired  horses,  unfed  as  yet  because  the 
forage  wagon  had  not  come,  were  picketed,  and  the  men 
prepared  to  take  hard-earned  rest.  O'Donnell  marched 
Squire  up  to  the  captain. 

"Now,  old  man,  I  want  you  to  tell  me  the  truth. 
Understand  me  ?  "  asked  Freeman,  loudly  and  sternly. 

"  Yassah,  Mahsta,"  replied  the  negro,  hat  off,  bending 
low,  and  speaking  with  all  the  insinuation  of  the  deepest 
humility. 

"  What  time  was  it  when  you  started  from  home  ?  " 

"  Bout  'leben  o'  twelve  o'clock,  Mahsta  ;  but  I  dunno 
zackly,  sah ;  hit  was  in  de  middle  o'  de  day,  but  I  didn't 
had  no  dinneh  yit,  sah." 

"How  far  do  you  call  it?" 

"  I  dunno,  sah ;  but,  Mahsta,  I  knows  dat  dis  ole  man  is 
mighty  tiahd,  sah  ;  won't  shu  lemme  seddown,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sit  down.     Who  came  with  you  ?  " 

"  Wid  me  ?  Nobody  'tall,  sah,  didn't  come  but  me.  I 
come  by  myse'f,  sah,  an'  I  didn't  hatto  say  a  wohd  to 
nobody,  sah,  tell  I  seed  dern  dah  Confeddicks  way  back 
yandeh,  sah  ;  an'  den  I  didn't  hatto  say  a  wohd  to  de 


64  OLD  SQUIRE 

Confeddicks  notheh;  but  w'en  I  seed  de  Feddicks,  den  I 
hatto  run  to  tell  'em,  sah  ;  I  runned  mos'  fo'-five  mile, 
sah,  an'  I  is  dess  about  broke  down.  I  tole  'em,  sah  ; 
dey'll  tell  you  de  troof." 

Freeman  sent  for  the  corporal  and  his  men,  and  ques- 
tioned them  closely,  but  of  course  failed  to  get  any  defi- 
nite knowledge  of  the  negro's  character.  They  had  paid 
him  a  dollar,  they  said,  for  guiding  them.  Yes,  he  had 
run  after  them,  and  had  told  them  that  the  rebels  were  in 
their  front,  moving  toward  the  ford.  They  had  seen  none, 
however ;  if  there  had  been  any,  they  had  doubtless  got 
across  long  since. 

The  captain  dismissed  the  witnesses  ;  but  he  was  still 
suspicious,  and  his  suspicions  pointed  nearly  at  the  truth. 
He  did  not  believe  that  this  old  negro  had  come  afoot 
thirty  miles  to  see  one  of  his  children  ;  such  a  thing  was 
possible,  of  course,  but  the  fact  that  the  same  negro  had 
been  brought  before  him  on  the  preceding  night  was  a 
coincidence  he  thought  remarkable.  Freeman  believed 
that  a  party  of  Confederates,  to  whom  the  slave  was 
attached,  had  crossed  the  river  on  this  day,  and  that  his 
captive  had  been  cut  off  from  them  —  cut  off,  say,  while 
foraging  — cut  off  by  the  corporal  and  his  little  command. 
And  Freeman  wanted  to  know  how  strong  a  force  it  was. 
He  knew  that  Stuart's  main  column  had  crossed  on  the 
preceding  night — perhaps  Stuart  had  been  reenforced. 

"  Who  do  you  belong  to  ?  "  asked  Freeman,  suddenly. 

"Mahs  Chahley  Armstrong,  sah." 

"  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  He  live  down  dah,  sah,  whah  you  come  to  git  Mahs 


DELINQUENCY  65 

Dan  Mawgin,  sah,  but  he  ain't  dah  now.  Don't  shu 
'membeh  me,  sah,  w'at  come  to  tell  you  'bout  Mahs 
Dan?" 

"  Yes,  I  know  ;  but  how  was  it  that  you  knew  his  name 
so  well  ?  "  and  now  Freeman  wondered  why  he  had  not 
asked  the  question  on  the  previous  night. 

"  Yassah,  he  done  had  some  lettehs  in  his  pocket,  sah, 
an'  dem  lettehs,  dey  tole  Mis'  Sarah  an'  Mahs  John  w'at 
his  name  wus,  Mahsta." 

It  sounded  plausible  enough  ;  but  the  captain  was  not 
satisfied. 

"  Where  is  your  master  now  ?  " 

"MahsChahley?" 

"Yes,  if  that's  his  name."  . 

"  He  done  gawn  wi'  de  Confeddicks,  Mahsta." 

"  Infantry  ?  " 

If  Squire's  answer  to  this  question  had  been  truth,  per- 
haps Freeman  would  have  pressed  him  no  further,  except 
to  try  to  learn  of  movements ;  but  the  negro  lapsed. 

"  Yassah." 

"What  regiment?" 

The  old  man  knew  by  the  tone  that  he  had  made  a  mis- 
take. Besides,  the  question  was  no  doubt  the  first  of  a 
series  bearing  upon  organizations  inclusive  ;  some  of 
these,  indeed,  a  slave  might  well  plead  ignorance  of ;  but 
some  he  must  know  —  for  instance,  the  company  in  which 
his  master  was  serving.  Squire  must  recant  without 
confessing. 

"Ginnle  Stuaht's,  sah." 

"  But  you  said  infantry,"  then  in  a  moment,  consider- 


66  OLD  SQUIRE 

ing  an  untaught  negro's  ignorance  of  words;  "are  Stuart's 
men  afoot  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  Mahsta ;  dey  all  a-ridin'  on  dey  hosses.  My 
Mahs  Chahley,  he  a-ridin',  too,  dess  lak  all  de  balance." 

"  When  did  you  see  them  last  ?  " 

"  'Fo'e  Gawd,  Mahsta,  I  ain't  seed  Mahs  Chahley  sence 
de  day  dat  Mahs  John  an'  Mis'  Sarah  an'  Miss  Lucy  all 
done  moved  away." 

"  How  long  has  that  been  ?  " 

"  Hit's  be'n,  sah  ...  I  couldn't  dess  tell  you  how  long 
hit  hain't  be'n,  Mahsta  ;  hit's  be'n  a  long  time,  sah  ;  hit 
was  w'en  he  come  home  f'om  de  battle  w'at  dey  fit  on  de 
ribeh,  sah." 

"  Fredericksburg,  or  what  battle  ?  " 

"  Dat  battle  whah  Ginnle  Lee  got  huht  so  bad,  Mahsta." 

"  You  mean  Jackson  ?     Stonewall  Jackson  ?  " 

"No,  sah  ;  I  means  Ginnle  Lee,  Mahsta." 

The  fame  of  other  Lees,  in  comparison  with  that  of 
their  illustrious  kinsman,  was  much  greater  to  Squire 
than  to  Freeman  ;  and  the  captain,  for  some  moments, 
was  puzzled. 

"  I've  never  heard  that  General  Lee  had  been  wounded 
in  any  battle.  Are  you  not  mistaken  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  sah  ;  Ginnle  Stuaht  done  hatto  make  Cunnle 
Chambliss  tek  Ginnle  Lee's  men." 

"Oh,  you  mean  Fitzhugh  ?" 

"Yassah,"  replied  the  negro  quickly,  thinking  that  he 
detected  in  the  question  a  desire  for  affirmative  reply. 
Truth  was,  however,  that  Squire's  invention  had  seized 
upon  General  W.  H.  F.  Lee. 


DELINQUENCY  67 

Nor  had  Freeman  heard  that  the  cavalry  general  had 
been  wounded  ;  and  perhaps  it  was  well  for  Squire  that 
he  had  not,  for  the  battle  in  question  might  have  been 
susceptible  to  the  charge  of  having  a  date.  Freeman  was 
getting  very  drowsy.  If  this  negro  knew  anything  at  all, 
he  was  successfully  concealing  his  knowledge.  The  cap- 
tain decided  to  adjourn  the  meeting.  To-morrow  he 
would  test  this  man,  and  test  him  severely. 

"  Private  O'Donnell  !  " 

The  soldier,  who  all  this  time  had  been  standing  some 
yards  away,  stepped  forward. 

"  Keep  this  man  under  strict  guard  until  further  orders. 
Repeat  this  order  to  Sergeant  Dow." 

******* 

The  negro  determined  to  get  away. 


CHAPTER  VI 

DEEP   WATER 

"  Out  of  my  lean  and  low  ability, 
I'll  lend  you  something." 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

AT  that  day  the  southern  egress  from  Rowser's  Ford  was 
through  a  narrow  chasm  dug  with  the  spade,  no  doubt,  but 
worn  deeper  in  the  bluff  by  years  of  travel.  The  passage 
itself  was  almost  a  mile  in  length,  though  not  very  diffi- 
cult at  low  water,  and  required  knowledge  of  its  windings, 
a  deviation  being  perilous  because  of  the  water's  depth 
below  the  ford  on  the  southern,  above  it  on  the  northern 
side.  From  the  great  fall  of  rain  up  the  river  on  the  23d 
the  stream,  although  now  falling,  was  still  at  least  eighteen 
inches  above  its  usual  summer  stage,  and  no  one  that  was 
unfamiliar  with  the  sinuosities  of  the  passage,  and  at  the 
same  time  aware  of  its  bad  reputation,  would  have  dared 
to  venture  across  at  night.  Stuart's  column  itself  had 
been  all  night  in  crossing,  the  cavalry  carrying  the  artil- 
lery ammunition  in  their  hands.1 

1  ("  As  General  Hampton  approached  the  river,  he  fortunately  met  a 
citizen  who  had  just  forded  the  river,  who  informed  us  there  were  no 
pickets  on  the  other  side,  and  that  the  river  was  fordable,  though  two 

68 


DEEP  WATER  69 

East  of  the  southern  limit  some  sixty  yards,  and  at 
equal  distance  south  of  the  river  bank,  the  guard  reserve 
had  been  established,  and  to  their  post  old  Squire  had 
been  compelled  to  march.  Farther  south,  on  a  swell  of 
the  ground,  was  a  cluster  of  young  trees,  without  under- 
growth ;  here  the  captain's  bivouac  had  been  prepared  ; 
still  farther  were  the  lines  of  picketed  horses,  vigilantly 
guarded  by  sentinels  at  either  end  of  the  rows. 

The  sergeant  on  guard  duty  to-night  was  an  excellent 
soldier.  He  had  chosen  at  once  the  correct  positions  for 
the  sentinels  and  for  his  reserves,  the  captain  approving, 
and  he  had  now  returned  from  his  first  relieving  round 
and  was  lying  on  his  blanket  spread  upon  the  grass  already 
wet  with  dew  —  not  lying  in  the  posture  of  a  man  who 
would  court  sleep,  but  half  reclining  with  his  elbow  for  a 
prop,  when  O'Donnell,  escorting  old  Squire,  marched  up. 

"  Got  to  kape  him,  Sergeant." 

"  Thought  so  ;  you're  not  on  guard  duty  ?  " 

"Oi'm  not,  sor  ;  Oi'm  going  to  get  some  slape.  Who 
takes  charge  of  this  man  ?  " 

"  Here,  Laffney,  wake  up  !  " 

A  man  sat  up  on  his  blanket,  yawning.  "  What's  up  ? 
I  know  it's  not  my  time  yet." 

"  No,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  time's  not  up  ;  but  we've 
got  a  man  to  guard.  Take  your  piece,  and  keep  watch 
over  this  negro  here.  You  may  go,  O'Donnell." 

feet  higher  than  usual.  .  .  .  The  residents  were  very  positive  that 
vehicles  could  not  cross.  A  ford  lower  down  was  examined  and  found 
quite  as  impracticahle  from  quicksand,  rocks,  and  rugged  banks."  From 
General  Stuart's  Report.) 


70  OLD  SQUIRE 

Laffney  stood.  Old  Squire  sat  upon  the  wet  grass, 
within  a  few  feet  of  his  guard.  The  sergeant  leaned 
back  upon  his  elbow  and  muttered,  "  Wonder  if  I  hadn't 
better  make  a  change  .  .  .  no,  this  is  all  right." 

Stillness  had  come  again  —  stillness  complete  except 
for  the  restlessness  of  horses  yet  unfed. 

Between  the  guards  and  the  bluff  was  no  bush  or  other 
obstacle  —  a  level  space  of  sixty  yards.  The  gash  cut  in 
the  bluff  by  the  road  was  sixty  yards  above.  Here  was  a 
sentinel  walking  back  and  forth  on  a  semicircular  beat  of 
perhaps  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards,  his  beat  at  each  end 
reaching  the  river  bank,  his  position  most  distant  from 
the  reserve  being  nearly  two  hundred  yards  away.  It 
was  the  duty  of  this  sentinel  to  watch  the  river,  and 
especially  the  far  side  of  the  ford,  which,  however,  would 
be  utterly  invisible  until  daylight  ;  his  rear  was  protected 
by  the  company's  vedettes  on  the  road,  and  his  flanks  by 
other  guards,  —  on  the  east  by  the  reserves  themselves,  on 
the  west  by  another  sentinel  beyond  whom  a  vedette  had 
been  posted  perdu. 

Squire  was  becoming  desperate.  Hours  had  passed  ; 
he  had  confidence  that  his  friends  were  still  waiting  for 
him  —  waiting,  but  almost  hopeless.  He  knew  that 
unless  they  could  cross  the  Potomac  this  night,  Stuart 
would  so  far  outride  them  that  they  would  hardly  dare 
to  venture.  He  fancied  their  suspense,  comparing  it  with 
his  own;  how  long  would  it  be  before  they  should  decide 
that  he  was  lost  to  them,  and  cease  to  wait  ?  The  thought 
caused  a  sudden  fear  that  they  had  already  gone.  And 
the  negro's  small  hope  was  not  in  Mahs  Chahley,  but  in 


DEEP   WATER  71 

Sergeant  Morgan  and  Sency.  He  knew  Armstrong  was 
rash.  If  at  this  moment  he  had  heard  shout  and  shot,  his 
surprise  would  not  have  been  great;  but  he  knew  that 
force  was  not  the  means  to  use  for  success  in  his  own 
case,  or  in  theirs,  and  he  knew  that  Sency  and  Morgan 
knew  it.  How  much  time  did  he  have  ?  Perhaps  none 
—  yet  he  must  try. 

Sitting  there  on  the  grass,  his  hand  touched  a  hard  and 
uneven  substance,  at  first  he  knew  not  what.  He  had 
been  almost  at  the  point  of  springing  to  his  feet  and  run- 
ning hard  for  the  river.  Squire  was  an  excellent  swimmer, 
and,  once  in  the  water,  might  laugh  at  carbines  fired  into 
the  night.  Perhaps  the  sergeant's  soliloquy  concerning 
the  advisability  of  changing  his  base  had  been  concluded 
by  the  reflection  that  not  one  prisoner  in  a  thousand 
would  run  for  deep  water  under  the  fire  of  the  guards, 
and  that  if  this  negro  should  do  so,  it  would  be  for  the 
purpose  not  merely  to  rid  himself  of  present  small  embar- 
rassment, but  ultimately  to  escape  slavery.  But  Squire 
had  fully  made  up  his  mind :  he  would  reach  the  river, 
plunge  in,  swim  far  down,  and  by  a  circuit  reach  his 
friends.  The  hard  object,  however,  had  induced  a  pause ; 
he  tried  to  lift  it ;  it  seemed  a  stump,  immovable  ;  in  a 
moment  he  knew  better  ;  the  thing  was  of  metal,  embedded 
in  the  earth.  He  pulled  at  it  again,  but  failed.  Then  he 
began  carefully  to  scrape  the  earth  from  its  edges  with 
his  nails  ;  he  knew  now  what  it  was  —  a  little  broken 
pot,  left  here  by  some  campers,  no  telling  how  many 
years  before.  He  continued  his  work  until  he  was  able 
to  shake  the  thing,  and  knew  that  at  the  opportune 


72  OLD  SQUIRE 

moment  he  should  have  no  difficulty  in  pulling  it 
out. 

Laffney  was  looking  toward  the  river ;  Squire  was  look- 
ing at  Laffney.  Laffney  yawned,  took  a  step  aside,  looked 
over  his  left  shoulder  ...  in  that  last  moment  the  negro 
sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  with  the  broken  pot  in  his  hands, 
was  speeding  toward  the  bluff. 

The  guard  turned  at  the  noise,  saw  the  fleeing  form, 
raised  his  carbine  without  a  word  —  and  fired. 

At  this  instant  the  sentinel  on  Beat  No.  1  had  started 
on  his  tramp  westward.  He  turned,  and  saw  the  negro 
just  disappearing  over  the  edge  of  the  bluff  ;  he  fired. 

The  sentinel  on  Beat  No.  1  heard  a  great  splash  in  the 
water. 

Laffney  was  running  to  the  bluff.  When  he  reached 
it,  there  was  nothing. 

Great  commotion  arose  in  the  company's  bivouac  ;  a 
stampede  threatened,  many  believing  the  rebels  were 
upon  them ;  men  were  running  to  their  horses  ;  men 
were  shouting  ;  horses  were  stamping  and  struggling. 

Sergeant  Dow,  however,  had  seized  upon  the  fact  of 
the  escape,  and  speedily  reported  to  Captain  Freeman, 
who  at  once  restored  quiet. 

"  That  darky  must  want  to  follow  his  master  very  bad," 
said  the  captain.  "  I  was  right  in  believing  that  he  had 
been  cut  off." 

"  Maybe  he's  running  for  freedom,"  said  Brock. 

"  No,  I  don't  believe  it ;  he  would  have  had  no  excuse 
for  not  saying  so.  He'd  know  very  well  that  we'd  send 
him  along." 


DEEP  WATER  73 

"  Hawley  believes  he  killed  him,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant ; 
"says  that  when  he  fired,  the  negro  was  in  the  act  of 
springing  into  the  water,  and  that  he  never  rose.  I  heard 
the  splash  myself." 

"  Hawley  is  a  remarkable  shot,  and  has  remarkable 
vision,"  said  Freeman,  incredulously.  — "Brock,  give  orders 
for  doubling  Dow's  guards.  We  don't  know  a  thing  ; 
those  shots  may  bring  some  inquisitive  people  upon  us. 
Let  everything  be  alert.  Wagon  not  come  yet?" 

"No,  sir." 

"  More  reason  to  be  careful.  Brock,  have  all  the  men 
to  keep  awake  and  ready  for  any  emergency." 

***#*#» 

Squire  had  not  felt  the  touch  of  lead  or  of  water.  On 
the  brink  of  the  bluff  he  had  thrown  the  pot  into  the 
stream,  and  at  once  had  leaped,  not  outward,  but  down- 
ward, risking  the  typical  place  —  underneath  him  a  nar- 
row shelving  shore  from  which  the  waters  had  receded. 
He  had  landed  safely,  his  feet  deep  in  the  mud,  and  at 
once  had  crawled  down  the  river,  keeping  under  the  bluff 
upon  which  the  guards  quickly  stood.  Soon  there  was  no 
need  of  crawling  ;  and  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  climbed  the 
bluff.  He  stopped,  and  looked  up  the  river;  he  could  see 
nothing,  but  could  hear  the  noise  of  the  alarm. 

"  Dem  men  not  a-gwine  to  quit  hunt'n'  feh  dis  ole  nig- 
geh,"  he  thought.  "  I  betteh  be  a-gitt'n'  fuddeh;  hit  ain't 
no  sense  in  ole  Squiah  stayin'  'bout  sheah  no  mo'e." 

He  turned  to  go  on  down  ;  before  him  he  could  see 
deeper  blackness,  which  he  knew  was  a  wooded  hill;  he 
would  get  to  the  wood,  then  fetch  a  bend  and  make  his 


74  OLD  SQUIRE 

way  back  to  his  friends,  and  report  the  ford  guarded;  the 
little  squad  could  not  cross.  Suddenly  he  stood  still  on 
the  brink  of  a  chasm;  another  step  and  he  should  have 
fallen.  He  got  down  on  his  knees,  and  could  see  the 
opposite  wall  of  the  ravine.  He  scrambled  to  the  bottom, 
not  more  than  ten  feet,  and  bent  his  way  to  the  river, 
chuckling. 

An  hour  later,  almost  exhausted,  he  reached  the  spot 
where  he  had  warned  Armstrong.  He  climbed  the  fence 
and  marched  north,  whistling  a  low  note. 

"  George,"  said  Morgan,  interrupting  Squire's  report 
that  the  ford  was  guarded,  "  do  you  know  any  other  ford 
near  by  ?  " 

"  None  nearer  than  the  one  just  below  Edwards  Ferry," 
said  Sency. 

"  Too  far  up ;  eight  or  ten  miles.  We  must  risk  it 
below." 

"  Mahs  Dan,  dey's  anotheh  fohd  down  dah —  I  mos'  fell 
into  de  road,  an'  den  I  didn't  do  nothin'  but  go  down  de 
road  to  de  wateh.  Hit's  a  fohd  feh  true,  'caze  I  seed 
whah  de  people  be'n  a-gwine  acrawst,  an'  I  knows  dat 
ef  dey  kin  go  acrawst,  we  kin  too,  leastways  ef  dat  dah 
Cap'm  Freeman  an'  his  men  don't  sheah  us  a-comin' ;  dey 
is  mighty  clost." 

"  Captain  Freeman  ?     The  same  man  we  saw  to-day  ?  " 

"Yassah,  he  de  ve'y  same  man,  an'  he  s'picion  me 
pow'ful.  He  look  at  me  lak  he  think  me  de  debble." 

"  Got  his  whole  company  with  him  ?  " 

"Yassah." 

"  How  far  above  the  place  you  saw?  "  asked  Sency. 


DEEP  WATER  75 

"Not  mo'e'n  a  quauteh." 

"We  must  risk  it,"  Morgan  exclaimed.  "Think  we 
can  make  it,  Squire?  " 

"  Yassah ;  de  good  book  hit  say  de  Lawd  kin  mek  He 
chillun  go  th'ough  de  sea  dess  lak  hit's  dry  groun'." 

"Squire,  you're  a  man  all  over.  I  wouldn't  fail  to 
cross  to-night  for  —  well,  if  we  should  fail  to-night,  we'd 
never  catch  up,  and  then  what  would  the  general  say? 
Boys,  we  must  try  it." 

"  We  can't  afford  not  to  try  it,"  said  Armstrong. 

Squire  mounted,  and  made  ready  to  lead  the  way. 

"  Mahs  Dan,  dem  Yankee  sojehs  is  a-watchin'  mighty 
clost.  Dey  ain't  got  a  mou'ful  feh  dey  hosses.  Dey  dess 
be'n  a  'spectin'  ev'y  minute  'at  dey  waggin'd  come  up, 
but  hit  ain't  come  up  yit." 

"Lead  on,  Squire.     Give  'em  a  wide  berth." 

They  were  in  motion  toward  the  road,  riding  in  single 
file,  when  noises  were  heard.  Squire  halted,  and  his 
followers  closed  up. 

"Mahs  Dan,  hit's  dat  waggin  a-comin'  now.  Don't 
shu  heah  de  wheels?" 

"Yes,"  whispered  the  sergeant,  "and  that  wagon 
ought  to  be  ours;  but  we  can't  spare  the  time." 

The  noises  came  nearer.  They  could  hear  the  tramp  of 
a  squad  of  cavalry,  and  voices,  and  the  lumbering  of  the 
wagon  in  the  rear.  They  still  waited,  for  fear  of  a  rear- 
guard; but  soon  all  sounds  ceased,  and  Squire  started 
again,  the  soldiers  riding  silently  one  by  one. 

At  length,  past  midnight,  they  halted  on  the  river 
bank;  at  once  Armstrong  dismounted. 


76  OLD  SQUIRE 

"Boys,  it's  my  time  now,"  he  said,  taking  his  picket 
rope  from  his  saddle. 

"  Better  strip,  Charley,"  said  Sency. 

"That's  just  what  I'm  going  to  do." 

Morgan  walked  up  the  river  bank  to  reconnoitre  ;  when 
he  returned  he  found  Armstrong  ready  to  lead  the  way 
into  the  water.  The  ford  was  unknown ;  the  stream  was 
wide  and  deep  ;  any  misstep  might  be  fatal. 

"  Charley,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  don't  be  in  haste. 
Those  men  back  there  are  as  busy  as  bees.  The  wagon 
has  come  up,  and  they  are  feeding.  Take  your  time, 
now." 

Armstrong  walked  into  the  water.  He  had  in  his  hand 
a  slender  pole,  more  than  ten  feet  long ;  to  his  body  was 
tied  his  picket  rope,  the  other  end  fastened  to  Morgan's 
arm.  Following  Morgan  came  old  Squire,  while  Lewis, 
leading  Armstrong's  horse,  brought  up  the  rear. 

The  moon  had  gone  down,  but  the  surface  of  the  river 
could  be  seen.  Armstrong  slowly  waded  on  with  the 
water  constantly  deepening  until  it  was  up  to  his  armpits  ; 
a  moment  more  and  he  was  swimming. 

Morgan  had  halted.  He  felt  the  rope  get  taut;  then 
he  pulled  steadily  and  brought  the  swimmer  back  to 
standing  ground. 

Now  Armstrong  waded  to  the  right  as  far  as  his  rope 
would  allow,  but  found  deeper  water.  He  came  back  and 
waded  to  his  left ;  here  the  water  still  took  him  almost  to 
his  shoulders ;  but  he  moved  on  some  forty  yards,  Morgan 
following. 

Again  the  leader  struck  straight  forward,  the  water 


DEEP  WATER  77 

lessening  in  depth.  He  was  beginning  to  believe  that  he 
had  found  the  right  way ;  yet  again  the  water  deepened, 
and  he  paused.  The  rapid  river  was  hard  to  withstand  — 
not  only  was  strength  required  to  force  his  way  forward, 
he  must  also  resist  the  downward  rush  of  the  water ;  he 
would  take  breath. 

As  yet  not  a  word  had  been  spoken.  The  nearness  of 
the  Federal  cavalry  was  such  that  over  the  surface  of  the 
river  sounds  might  easily  reach  them.  At  length  Arm- 
strong, feeling  rested,  decided  that  he  must  make  another 
advance.  He  would  try  the  right  again;  he  leaned  his 
body  in  that  direction ;  he  struggled  to  move,  but  could 
not ;  he  felt  himself  sinking  fast,  his  feet  embedded  in 
quicksand;  he  struggled  again,  but  could  not  move  his 
feet ;  he  shouted,  and  Morgan  pulled,  but  seemed  to  pull 
against  a  rock.  His  horse  was  stiff  in  his  tracks  on  a 
bottom  fairly  firm,  but  the  body  of  his  guide  was  immov- 
able. Again  Armstrong  shouted,  and  at  the  instant  a 
shot  was  heard  on  the  river  bank  above  them,  and  then 
loud  voices,  and  the  sound  of  running,  and  another  shot. 

"  I's  a-comin',  Mahs  Chahley,"  cried  old  Squire,  mak- 
ing his  horse  plunge  to  Morgan's  side. 

"Hold  on  there,  sir.  What  do  you  mean  to  do?" 
asked  the  sergeant. 

"I's  a-gwine  to  my  Mahs  Chahley." 
"No ;  just  take  hold  here,  and  help  pull." 
The  strength  of  two  arms  speedily  drew  the  exhausted 
man  back  to  safety.     Meantime,  in  their  rear,  the  noises 
had  increased,  and  they  knew  that  men  were  running 
down  the  river  bank. 


78  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  I'm  a-thinkin'  we'd  better  go  ahead,"  said  Joe,  from 
the  rear. 

"  Silence,"  said  Morgan.  He  had  no  thought  that  they 
should  be  pursued  into  the  water,  and  they  were  already 
too  far  to  be  seen ;  all  he  feared  was  some  shot  fired  in 
the  darkness  at  a  noisy  target. 

Armstrong  was  too  weak  to  continue ;  he  stood  in  the 
water,  leaning  against  Morgan's  horse. 

"  Go  back  and  tell  Mr.  Lewis  to  bring  up  your  Mahs 
Charley's  horse,"  the  sergeant  whispered  to  Squire. 

"  Yassah,  an'  den  w'at  shu  gwine  to  do,  Mahs  Dan  ?  " 

"I'm  going  to  lead,  just  as  he  was  doing." 

"  No,  sah,  you  dess  lemme  lead,  Mahs  Dan.  De  good 
book  hit  say  de  las'  gwine  to  be  de  fust,  an'  I  knows  I  ain't 
high,  an'  I  can't  do  nothin'  in  de  wateh;  but  I's  dess 
a-gwine  awn  dry  so  widout  gitt'n'  awff  o'  dis  hoss,  Mahs 
Dan." 

Now  there  was  a  great  uproar, — men  shouting  on  the 
bank  directly  in  the  rear.  Morgan  felt  that  Squire  was 
right  —  something  must  be  done  at  once,  and  the  least 
risk  was  in  doing  what  the  negro  wanted  to  do.  Squire 
was  a  light-weight,  and  his  horse  could  therefore  lead  with 
the  minimum  of  peril  to  all. 

Lewis  ranged  alongside  and  helped  Armstrong,  naked, 
to  mount. 

Then  Squire  forged  ahead,  giving  his  horse  the  bridle. 

"  Dish  sheah  critteh  mought  ha'  be'n  acrawst  sheah 
bef o'e  now,"  muttered  the  old  man  to  himself,  "  an'  den 
ag'in  he  moughtn't ;  but  I  knows  he  got  he  haid  down  clost 
whah  he  kin  smell  de  bottom,  an'  ef  he  ain't  got  'nough 


DEEP  WATER  79 

sense  to  keep  he  foot  out  o'  de  bog,  he  ain't  fitten  feh 
dawg  meat.  De  good  book  hit  say  de  hoss  got  lots  o' 
sense ;  leastways  hit  don't  say  he  ain't  got  none." 

Whether  it  was  that  Squire's  trust  in  instinct  was  more 
accurate  than  his  knowledge  of  Scripture,  or  that  accident 
favoured  him,  his  beast  turned  to  the  right  at  a  sharp 
angle  and  was  soon  on  better  ground  for  depth,  and  though 
the  passage  now  was  full  of  jagged  rocks,  they  were  mak- 
ing good  headway  in  the  middle  of  the  stream.  The 
noise  in  the  rear  continued,  and  scattering  shots  warned 
them  to  hasten.  Morgan  feared  that  the  northern  end 
of  Rowser's  Ford  was  guarded  and  that  the  guards  there, 
hearing  the  shots,  would  come  down  the  river  and  head 
them  off ;  so  he  rode  almost  by  Squire's  side,  urging  on. 
The  water  again  became  very  deep.  Once  Squire  felt 
that  his  horse  was  swimming,  but  in  an  instant  bottom  was 
touched,  and  then  the  shore  loomed  close  at  hand. 

Morgan  ordered  Squire  to  halt,  and  all  the  party  ranged 
alongside  in  the  water.  They  listened  intently,  fearing 
foes  on  the  bank  ;  but  in  their  front,  and  now  at  the  south 
as  well,  there  was  no  sound.  Yet  the  sergeant  would  be 
prudent.  He  could  not  know  whether  the  exit  was  strongly 
guarded,  but  he  was  going  to  take  the  venture.  They  could 
not  now  return,  and  he  gathered  his  men  and  prepared 
to  force  the  passage.  He  made  Squire  take  the  rear ;  he 
waited  until  Armstrong  had  succeeded  in  partly  clothing 
himself ;  then,  with  weapons  ready,  he  led  the  way  into 
Maryland. 


CHAPTER  VII 


"  I  beseech  you,  what  manner  of  man  is  he  ?  " 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

A  COMRADE  farming  near  Haymarket  informed  Usher 
West  that  Mosby  had  already  disappeared,  having  gone 
with  a  few  picked  men  to  the  Potomac  to  find  out  for 
Stuart's  benefit  the  condition  of  the  fords,  and  had  left 
orders  for  the  remainder  of  the  band  to  stay  quietly  at 
their  homes  until  served  with  further  notice. 

"  Jennie,"  said  Mr.  West,  in  low  tones,  "  did  you  know 
that  Usher  has  come  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Father  ;  I  let  him  in  and  kept  him  from  going  to 
his  room." 

Her  fine,  strong  hands  were  white  with  flour ;  she  stood 
at  the  kitchen  window  fronting  the  sunrise,  her  father  on 
the  outside. 

"  Your  sleep  was  lighter  than  mine,  then,  for  I  didn't 
hear  him  ;  but  I  find  his  horse  in  the  stable.  What  did 
you  tell  him  ?  " 

"  Only  that  his  room  had  guests  in  it.  What  are  we  to 
do?"  she  asked. 

"  I  must  tell  him  everything  before  he  gets  up  ;  he  may 
not  want  Dr.  Lacy  to  see  him." 

80 


A   LIVE  PUZZLE  81 

"  I'm  afraid  he  won't  like  what  we've  done,"  said  the 
girl. 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  it  may  keep  him  from  home,  Father.  When 
he  can  be  at  home  he  wants  to  stay  ;  and  I  know,  too, 
though  he  never  says  so,  that  he's  always  afraid  he'll 
bring  trouble  upon  you  and  me  if  he's  found  out." 

Mr.  West  looked  very  serious.  Mosby's  men  were 
peculiarly  obnoxious  to  the  Federal  authorities,  who 
devised  many  plans  for  their  capture,  and  sometimes 
refused  to  treat  them  as  mere  prisoners  of  war  until  they 
could  show  proof  of  regular  enlistment  in  the  Confed- 
erate army.  The  fact  was  that  there  were  other  bands 
—  unjustly  classed  as  Mosby's  men,  most  frequently  such 
as  would  join  together  for  a  single  purpose  and  then  dis- 
solve forever — which  did  little  else  than  plunder.  Mosby 
was  a  partisan,  yet  in  legitimate  service,  and  his  enter- 
prises were  directed  mainly  against  the  Federals'  line  of 
communications,  in  order  that  a  feeling  of  insecurity 
might  prevail  throughout  their  army  ;  but  his  fame  has 
suffered  because  of  irregularity  in  the  conduct  of  some 
of  his  men  and  more  because  of  the  deeds  of  bush- 
whackers with  whom  he  had  no  connection. 

"He  may  be  compelled  to  hide  out,  Jennie." 

"  You  haven't  much  time  to  lose,  Father,  if  you  are  go- 
ing to  see  him  before  he  wakes  ;  breakfast  will  be  ready 
in  half  an  hour." 

"  How  was  Morgan  last  night  ?  " 

"  No  change  at  all ;  he  just  lay  there  with  his  eyes 
open." 

G 


82  OLD  SQUIRE 

At  first,  hardly  roused  from  sleep,  Usher  gave  speech 
to  great  dissatisfaction  ;  but  when  told  all  the  circum- 
stances, he  said  that  his  father  could  not  have  acted  dif- 
ferently, and  that  it  would  be  best  to  meet  Dr.  Lacy. 
Usher  was  not  going  to  deprive  himself  of  the  comforts 
of  home  on  account  of  a  wounded  Federal,  and  he  knew 
very  well  how  much  to  tell  of  himself  to  the  surgeon  and 
how  much  to  withhold.  So  at  breakfast  he  was  intro- 
duced as  the  son  of  the  farmer,  a  Confederate  soldier  on 
leave  of  absence,  and  Lacy  did  not  permit  himself  to  ask 
possibly  indiscreet  questions,  though  he  wondered  how 
Lee  in  the  present  campaign  could  afford  to  grant  fur- 
loughs to  strapping  fellows  such  as  the  one  he  saw  on  his 
right. 

"  And  how  is  your  patient,  Doctor  ?  "  asked  Miss  West. 

"  Our  patient,"  he  replied,  with  a  stress  on  the  pronoun. 
"You  must  not  endeavour  to  shirk  responsibility,  Miss 
West ;  he  is  just  as  he  was,  only  he  went  to  sleep  very 
quickly  after  you  left  last  night  and  is  asleep  yet.  I 
shall  probe  for  that  ball  just  as  soon  as  I  think  he  has 
the  strength  to  bear  it.  I  regard  the  extraction  all- 
important." 

"  Is  he  of  the  cavalry,  Doctor  ?  "  asked  Usher,  pretend- 
ing ignorance. 

"Yes  —  a  courier  —  I  think  I've  heard  that  was  his 
position  —  and  I  reason  he  must  have  been  in  close  action 
when  he  was  shot ;  it  seems  to  be  a  pistol-ball." 

"  Last  week  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  twenty-first.  Some  persons  admitted  him 
to  their  home,  where  he  remained  until  yesterday  ;  we 


A  LIVE  PUZZLE  83 

should  have  had  him  in  the  hospital  at  Washington  but  for 
your  friend  Stuart.  Mr.  West,  you  were  saying  yesterday 
that  it  might  become  your  duty  to  notify  the  Confeder- 
ate forces  so  that  they  could  demand  his  parole  ;  now  I 
have  thought  that  Morgan's  delivery  to  us  debars  you  ; 
how  does  that  thought  impress  you?" 

"  Possibly  it  does,  not  formally,  perhaps,  but  actually. 
What  do  you  think  of  it,  Usher?" 

"  Think  you  ought  to  let  the  man  alone,  sir.  Doctor, 
I'll  make  a  bargain  with  you  :  you  keep  mum  about  me 
to  your  folks,  and  I'll  keep  our  fellows  off  while  you're 
here." 

"Agreed!"  exclaimed  the  doctor.  "A  very  generous 
offer  on  your  part,  young  man,  for  of  course  the  kindness 
of  this  family  would  ever  prevent  me  from  bringing 
trouble  here.  And  even  if  the  authorities  should  know 
that  my  kind  host  has  a  son  in  the  Confederate  army, 
what  of  that  ?  " 

"  But  I  don't  see  the  thing  quite  so  plainly,"  said  Mr. 
West.  "I  am  called  on  to  aid  a  wounded  man,  and  that's 
all  right  as  far  as  it  goes ;  but  to  wink  at  his  escape  when 
he  is  practically  a  prisoner,  looks  like  a  different  thing. 
Of  course  the  Confederates  had  no  claim  upon  him  after 
they  gave  him  up,  but  you  find  that  you  can't  keep  him 
and  actually  throw  him  back  on  us.  Have  you  not  re- 
nounced your  claim?" 

"  Really,  Father,  he  has  never  been  a  prisoner,  and  is 
not  one  now,"  said  Jennie,  her  voice  too  low  for  Lacy  to 
catch  all  her  words. 

"  Not  strictly,  I  admit.     But  what  I  think  of   is   the 


84  OLD  SQUIRE 

duty  of  a  citizen,  not  that  of  a  soldier.  I  suppose  that 
my  son  here,  in  the  absence  of  his  commander,  has  perfect 
right  to  make  a  bargain  with  the  doctor  —  by  the  way, 
Doctor,  you  say  that  a  truce  was  made  between  your 
forces  and  the  Confederate  forces  which  proved  to  be  one 
man.  Can  you  tell  me  when  that  peculiar  truce  expired  ?  " 

The  surgeon  laughed.  "  That  truce  was  indeed  pecul- 
iar ;  it  was  demanded,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  learn, 
by  the  family  which  was  taking  care  of  Morgan,  —  the 
Armstrongs,  —  and  the  messenger  they  sent  was  an  old 
negro  named  Judge." 

"  No,  Squire,"  said  Jennie. 

"  Yes,  Squire  ;  a  very  ignorant  old  man  — " 

"The  shrewdest  old  chap  in  the  Confederate  States!" 
exclaimed  Usher. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  I  shouldn't  have  thought  it.  He  was 
very  ignorant  of  everything  except  that  he  had  been  sent 
to  see  us  and  arrange  for  turning  over  Lieutenant  Morgan. 
He  said  the  Confederate  forces  were  not  going  to  fight  us  if 
we'd  put  up  the  white  flag  !  And  of  course  we  thought 
that  there  was  some  scouting  party  with  which  we  should 
have  to  deal,  —  some  squad  or  platoon  that  couldn't  take 
Morgan  away,  —  but  when  we  got  there  we  found  nobody 
at  all  except  one  soldier  with  his  head  and  face  bandaged, 
and  the  old  negro  himself.  If  this  so-called  truce  is  not 
binding,  sir,  we  are  simply  at  your  mercy,  Mr.  West." 

"  I  have  nothing  but  my  conscience  to  guide  me  in  this 
matter,  Doctor,"  interrupted  Mr.  West  ;  "  although 
there  was  no  truce  in  due  form,  yet  it  was  accepted  as 
such  by  both  parties,  and  I  think  one  ought  to  be  bound 


A  LIVE   PUZZLE  85 

by  it  just  as  if  General  Lee  or  General  Stuart  had  been 
back  of  it." 

"  Then,  sir,  the  truce  still  holds,  if  I  understand  truces; 
the  purpose  of  this  one  has  not  been  fulfilled.  A  Confed- 
erate soldier — rank  and  character  unknown  to  me  —  asks 
to  deliver  us  a  wounded  man  whom  he  cannot  provide  for  ; 
he  delivers  him  and  goes  away  ;  then  other  Confederates 
intervene  and  prevent  the  accomplishment  of  the  purpose 
for  which  he  asked  the  truce  —  had  they  the  right  ?  " 

"  No,  and  yes ;  they  had  the  military  right  to  ignore  an 
invalid  truce,  but  have  I  the  moral  right  ?  The  question 
concerns  my  conduct,  not  Stuart's.  You  cannot  suppose 
that  General  Stuart  was  bound  in  any  sense  to  suspend  his 
march  because  of  that  truce  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  Mr.  West ;  yet  suppose  that  General 
Stuart  had  known  the  circumstances  in  all  detail,  do  you 
think  he  would  have  stopped  my  ambulance  on  the 
road  ?  " 

"  I  know  he  wouldn't,"  exclaimed  Usher. 

Mr.  West  considered  :  better  not  express  reluctance 
that  he  did  not  really  feel ;  the  doctor  seemed  honestly 
apprehensive  ;  it  would  be  but  common  kindness  to  allay 
his  fears. 

"  I  am  about  to  persuade  myself  that  I  have  not  the 
right  to  interfere,"  said  the  farmer  —  truth  was  that  he 
had  never  intended  to  interfere. 

"  I'll  stand  by  that  truce,"  exclaimed  Usher  ;  "  I  was 
in  the  hands  of  your  people  once,  Doctor,  and  shall  never 
forget  your  kind  treatment." 

"  What  battle  was  it  ?  "   asked  Dr.  Lacy,  causing  mo- 


86  OLD  SQUIRE 

mentary  dismay  to  two  of  his  hearers  ;  but  the  one  most 
interested  calmly  replied :  "  No  battle,  Doctor,  no  regular 
engagement — just  one  of  the  little  skirmishes  that  we 
cavalry  folks  are  always  getting  into.  It  was  last  winter, 
down  on  the  Rappahannock." 

From  the  first  Lacy  had  observed  that  Usher  was  not 
wearing  uniform,  and  had  wondered ;  yet  tastes  are  dif-  t 
ferent,  he  thought.  He  himself  had  laid  aside  his  uniform 
here,  and  when  on  furlough  always  elected  to  go  as  a 
simple  citizen. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "many  of  the  skirmishes  are  unnamed." 

"  Not  enough  names  to  go  round,"  said  Usher. 

"  As  you  say  ;  even  the  names  of  some  great  battles  are 
in  duplicate,  as  Bull  Run,  for  instance.  A  serious  wound, 
may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  an  accident,  really ;  my  horse  ran  under  a  limb 
and  I  was  knocked  off;  disabled  for  a  couple  of  weeks  only." 

"  When  were  you  exchanged  ?  "  Lacy  asked  the  ques- 
tion indifferently,  moved  by  the  necessity  for  showing  a 
little  interest  that  he  did  not  feel.  Mr.  West  glanced  at 
Jennie,  and  saw  that  she  was  thoroughly  composed.  Usher 
at  once  replied  :  "  Oh,  never,  sir ;  I  got  away  in  a  scram- 
ble that  came  up.  I  was  recaptured  while  in  one  of  your 
field  hospitals.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,"  and  then  the 
young  man  went  on  to  narrate  one  of  his  leader's  daring 
raids,  without  giving  names  or  disclosing  the  fact  that  his 
rescue  had  been  achieved  by  his  own  comrades. 

"  That  is  very  interesting,"  said  the  surgeon,  dreamily  ; 
doubtless  he  was  imagining  the  possibility  of  such  a  deed 
in  his  own  favour. 


A  LIVE  PUZZLE  87 


"  And  I'll  tell  yow,  Dr.  Lacy,  and  I  don't  care  who 
knows  it,  that  it's  part  of  my  creed  to  give  and  take. 
You  needn't  fear  my  giving  your  hiding-place  away,  and 
you  needn't  fear  my  father,  either,  for  all  he  is  so  particu- 
lar." 

Mr.  West  smiled  feebly  at  this,  but  nodded  his  head,  as 
much  as  to  say  that  the  question  was  settled. 

Lacy  rose.  "  I  must  be  with  Morgan.  —  Miss  West,  you 
and  I  are  going  to  get  him  to  take  some  food  of  some  sort 
this  morning,  if  you  please." 

"  Yes,  Doctor  ;  what  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"  Can  you  get  me  a  little  chicken  soup  ?  " 

"  Thickened  ?     We  have  no  rice,  but  I  can  use  flour." 

"No,  only  the  thinnest  broth." 

"  At  once,  Doctor  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  should  be  glad  to  have  it  as  soon  as  you  can 
give  it  to  me." 

Usher  went  into  the  kitchen  with  his  sister. 

"Those  men  are  outrageously  in  my  way,  Jennie.  I 
thought  I  should  have  a  good  rest  at  home,  and  now  I 
must  be  on  my  p's  and  q's  all  the  time.  I  wonder  how 
long  they'll  be  here." 

"  There's  no  telling,  Usher.     It  may  be  a  month." 

"  Our  army  has  all  gone  across  the  river  ;  so  have  the 
Yankees,  but  some  of  them  are  at  Centreville  and  Fairfax, 
and  could  come  after  these  men  at  any  time.  Why  can't 
we  send  them  word  ?  " 

"  And  who  would  go  for  us  ?  "  she  asked. 

"I'll  find  a  way  if  you'll  get  that  Yankee  doctor  to 
write  a  note." 


88  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  I'd  never  propose  such  a  thing." 

"Then  I'll  ask  Father." 

"  But  he  won't  do  it.  You  see  that  he  almost  wants  to 
give  them  up  to  the  Confederates.  Where  are  the  nearest 
Confederates,  Usher  ?  " 

"Blest  if  I  know.     Culpeper,  I  reckon." 

Jennie  smiled  at  this.     Culpeper  was  far  away. 

"  Then  Winchester,  or  possibly  the  gap,"  said  Usher, 
meaning  Ashby's. 

"I  hope  he'll  get  back  to  his  own  people,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  I'm  willing  to  that ;  all  I  ask  is,  not  to  be  run  out 
of  house  and  home." 

"  They  won't  trouble  you,  Usher.  Dr.  Lacy  is  in  too 
great  distress  to  think  of  giving  you  trouble." 

"  Yes,  but  when  he  goes  back,  won't  he  tell  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  have  no  idea  that  he  knows  anything. " 

"  Yes,  but  the  mischief  of  it  is  that  to  keep  him  from 
knowing  anything  I've  got  to  be  careful  every  time  I  open 
my  mouth.  And  then  again,  suppose  Joe  Dixon  or  Lem 
Roberts  should  happen  to  come  over  and  blab.  I'm  going 
to  notify  them  all,  so  they'll  keep  out  of  the  way." 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  she  cried. 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  they  would  tell  everybody,  and  somebody 
would  be  sure  to  cause  trouble." 

"  Well,  I'll  try  to  keep  'em  off  some  way." 

He  started  to  go,  but  turned  again,  and   said,  "Say, 
Jennie,  I  saw  Charley  Armstrong  the  other  day." 
'Well?"  she  said,  looking  curious. 
'  He  was  trying  to  catch  up  with  Stuart.     Asked  about 


A  LIVE  PUZZLE  89 

the  folks  here  ;  you  know  who  he  meant,  you  little  hypo- 
crite." 

He  laughed  loudly,  and  started,  saying  that  he  was  go- 
ing to  the  mountain  and  should  not  be  back  before  night. 

Mr.  West  busied  himself  about  the  farm,  and  the  sur- 
geon was  with  his  patient.  Lacy  felt  himself  peculiarly 
fortunate  in  his  host,  whose  character  was  so  open,  he 
thought.  If  the  farmer  had  professed  to  be  a  Union  man, 
there  would  be  strong  reason  for  doubting  him,  and  for 
always  fearing  betrayal.  Your  Virginia  fellow-citizen  be- 
came a  Unionist  only  through  compulsion,  and  disavowed 
his  conduct  just  as  soon  as  the  Confederates  gained  the 
upper  hand. 

One  thing,  however,  gave  the  surgeon  a  shade  of  anx- 
iety: this  young  fellow  Usher,  who  was  so  earnest  in  his 
assurance  of  sympathy  ;  this  soldier  who  gave  no  date  or 
name  to  the  fight  in  which  he  had  been  wounded,  and  was 
silent  as  to  the  organization  to  which  he  belonged,  who 
could  get  leave  of  absence  at  a  most  critical  time  to  his 
cause,  and  went  without  uniform  —  all  these  considerations 
gave  rise  to  uneasiness.  Still,  to  take  it  on  the  whole,  the 
surgeon  thought  he  might  have  gone  farther  and  fared 
worse  :  this  young  woman  was  charming  and  strong,  if  in- 
deed somewhat  unsophisticated  ;  she  would  be  a  great  help 
in  pulling  Morgan  through.  Women,  you  know,  if  they 
have  good  sense,  are  the  best  of  nurses,  and  this  one 
seemed  highly  endowed  with  that  rare  feminine  quality. 
He  thought  the  daughter  the  stronger,  when  he  compared 
her  with  Usher,  yet  he  admitted  that  the  man  might  be 
concealing  his  powers,  with  some  purpose,  though  for 


90  OLD  SQUIRE 

what  purpose  he  could  not  imagine  ;  evidently  there  was 
mystery,  for  ordinarily  a  soldier  will  let  you  know  at  once, 
and  with  pride,  the  command  to  which  he  is  attached,  and 
if  he  has  been  distinguished  by  wounds  he  will  tell  you  all 
about  the  important  matter  ;  then,  too,  Lacy  had  been 
alert  enough  to  perceive,  and  with  some  wonder,  that 
Usher,  in  his  narration  of  the  adventure  which  had  for  one 
of  its  results  his  own  release  from  captivity,  had  avoided 
giving  the  names  of  the  leaders  in  the  daring  exploit  —  a 
thing  hard  to  do  when  you  come  to  think  of  it.  All  these 
things  tended  to  disturb  Lacy,  not  that  he  felt  great  fear, 
but  simply  because  he  had  not  yet  reached  a  logical  solu- 
tion of  what  he  regarded  in  the  light  of  a  small  mystery; 
and  all  through  the  morning,  while  with  Miss  West's  help 
he  served  his  patient  faithfully,  he  found  his  mind  wan- 
dering from  his  important  work  and  fastening  on  Usher 
West.  When  dinner  came  the  son  of  the  household 
assumed  still  greater  prominence,  for  what  rebel  on 
furlough  was  ever  known  to  miss  a  meal  ?  Lacy's  be- 
wilderment became  almost  extreme  :  a  puzzle  was  here 
challenging  him  ;  he  determined  to  lay  hold  of  it ; 
puzzles  were  his  natural  prey. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

DAHLGREN 
"  And  what  he  greatly  thought,  he  nobly  dared." 


—  POFE. 


GENERAL  STUART,  in  his  report  of  the  operations  of 
the  Confederate  cavalry  in  the  Gettysburg  campaign, 
tells  us  that  early  on  the  morning  of  the  28th  of  June  he 
marched  from  the  Maryland  end  of  Rowser's  Ford  for 
Rockville.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  was  fully  midnight  of 
the  27th  when  the  rear  of  Stuart's  column  succeeded  in 
crossing,  and  at  once  a  rest  was  ordered  until  nearly  nine 
o'clock  ;  but  for  this  delay  Morgan's  men  would  no  doubt 
have  found  their  purpose  impracticable. 

Rockville  is  northeast  from  Rowser's  Ford  some  twelve 
miles,  and  it  was  past  noon  when  Stuart's  head  of  column 
entered  the  village.  Here  small  parties  of  the  Federals 
were  seen,  but  they  retired  at  once.  Before  the  column 
passed  through  Rockville  a  long  wagon  train  was  reported 
in  sight,  coming  from  Washington,  and  W.  H.  F.  Lee's 
brigade  was  ordered  to  seize  it.  This  work  took  up  the 
remainder  of  the  afternoon,  so  that  it  was  night  when 
Stuart  left  Rockville  for  Brookeville,  twelve  miles  north. 
At  Brookeville  he  halted  until  morning,  for  the  purpose  of 
paroling  prisoners.  Hence  when  Morgan's  men  got  across 

91 


92  OLD   SQUIRE 

the  river,  the  rear  of  the  Confederate  column  was  still  at 
Brookeville,  but  twenty-four  miles  away. 

No  man  in  Morgan's  party  had  ever  ridden  through  the 
country  beyond  Rowser's  ;  yet  Sency  had  learned  much 
concerning  the  villages  and  roads,  and  especially  in  regard 
to  the  political  feelings  of  the  people. 

"Dan,  we  must  make  for  Quarles's,"  he  said,  giving  the 
name  of  a  Southern  sympathizer. 

"  Know  how  far  it  is,  or  anything  about  it  ? "  asked 
the  sergeant. 

"  No  ;  better  send  Squire  on  ahead  to  ask  at  the  first 
house.  All  I  know  is  that  it's  somewhere  about  here." 

"  Squire,  ride  on  hard  and  ask  the  first  people  you  see 
where  Mr.  Quarles  lives.  Wake  'em  up,  if  need  be,  and 
be  on  the  lookout  for  us." 

"  Yassah  ;  Misteh  Squalls's  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Simpson  Quarles,"  said  Sency,  and  repeated. 

Armstrong  had  recovered  his  strength ;  but  Morgan 
thought  best  not  to  push  the  horses,  and  Squire  hastened 
ahead,  and  did  his  work  so  well  that  before  sunrise  they 
saw  him  waiting  at  the  mouth  of  a  lane. 

"  Misteh  Squalls,  he  say  you  mus'  come  up  dah,  Mahs 
Dan  ;  he  say  he  not  a-gwine  to  talk  to  no  dam  niggeh ; 
he  say  ef  w'at  shu  want  to  know  is  all  right  you  kin  come 
up,  an'  ef  hit  ain't  all  right  shu  betteh  go  'long  'bout  sho' 
bus'ness.  Dat  Misteh  Squalls  hese'f  w'at  tell  me.  Wen 
I  axed  him  de  road  to  Misteh  Squalls's,  he  up  an'  he  say 
he  de  man,  an'  dat  he  at  he  own  house,  an'  dah  he  gwine 
to  stay." 

Sency  rode  toward  the  house,  his  comrades  waiting. 


DAHLGREN  93 

For  more  than  six  months  George  had  been  held  by 
wounds  at  Mr.  Radman's,  ten  miles  above  this  spot  —  held 
secretly  for  fear  of  captivity  ;  he  knew  that  Quarles  was 
friendly,  but  that  was  all  he.  knew.  There  were  evidences 
of  prosperity,  — well-tilled  fields  on  one  side  and  well-kept 
fences.  The  place  was  highly  respectable,  the  outbuild- 
ings having  been  newly  painted,  while  the  dwelling  was 
almost  imposing  —  a  much  more  pretentious  residence 
than  the  humble  home  of  Mr.  Radman.  Sency  began  to 
fear  that  he  was  making  a  mistake,  and  was  almost  ready 
to  renounce  ;  but  he  had  seen  a  man  in  his  shirt  sleeves 
standing  in  the  front  porch,  and  he  decided  to  go  on.  He 
hitched  his  horse  and  approached  afoot. 

"  Good  morning,  sir,"  said  George. 

"  Good  morning,"  was  the  reply,  curt  enough. 

The  man  was  about  sixty,  gray-bearded,  short,  but 
strong-looking ;  rather  fierce  in  his  manner,  thought 
George. 

"  You  are  Mr.  Quarles  —  Simpson  Quarles  ?  " 

"That  is  my  name,  sir." 

An  awkward  silence  followed  ;  evidently  each  doubted 
the  other,  and  wanted  him  to  open. 

"  I  hear  Stuart  has  crossed,"  said  the  Confederate,  as  a 
compromise. 

"Yes." 

"  Do  you  know  it  to  be  true  ?  " 

"It  is  true." 

Not  much  of  an  opening.     Sency  must  develop. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  he  is  now  ?  " 

"I   cannot.     I   suppose   there   are   but   few  men  who 


94  OLD  SQUIRE 

know  where  he  is  now,  and  they  are  immediately  about 
him." 

Perhaps  every  man  has  a  weakness.  Quarles  was  no 
exception  —  he  smiled  at  his  victory  over  Sency.  The 
soldier  hastened  to  acknowledge  defeat. 

"You  certainly  got  me  that  time.  A  friend  of  mine 
told  me  it  wouldn't  do  for  any  common  man  to  tackle 

you." 

"  And  you  are  a  common  man  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Common  to  what  ?  " 

"  Only  a  private  soldier  —  common  to  thousands," 
replied  Sency. 

"  Who  is  that  friend  you  talkin'  about  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  I  won't  call  any  names  ;  but  he's  a  friend 
of  yours." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  him  ?  "  continued  Quarles. 

"  I  know  that  he  proved  a  friend  in  need.  I  owe  him 
everything,  sir  —  far  more  than  I  can  ever  repay." 

"  For  what  ?  " 

"  He  took  care  of  me  when  I  was  unable  to  go." 

"  What  did  he  tell  you  about  me  ?  " 

Quarles  had  become  the  questioner. 

"  Nothing  whatever  to  your  disadvantage,  but  much  in 
your  favour,  according  to  my  way  of  looking  at  things." 

"  What  things  ?  "  The  farmer  was  eying  his  visitor 
sharply.  The  man  might  be  the  opposite  of  what  he 
seemed  —  might  be  a  man  sent  to  entrap  him  into  trea- 
sonable confessions. 

"  The  war,"  was  George's  reply. 


DAHLGREN  95 

"  What  about  the  war  ?  " 

The  question  might  bring  truth  to  light ;  there  were 
two  parties  even  at  the  North  ;  many  there,  although  for 
the  Union  in  sentiment,  had  tired  of  the  long  war,  and 
wanted  it  to  stop  on  almost  any  honourable  conditions, 
and  now  with  Lee  in  Pennsylvania  and  a  decisive  battle 
imminent  —  a  battle  on  which  would  depend  the  safety  of 
the  Capital  or  of  Baltimore  —  the  peace  party  had  become 
bold. 

"  I'd  like  to  see  it  stop,"  said  George,  "  and  you  know 
you  would,  too." 

"  Yes,"  says  Quarles,  indifferently,  "  I  suppose  every- 
body wants  it  to  stop  except  the  contractors  and  the 
officers  who  are  hoping  for  promotion  —  but  stop  how  f  " 

"  Your  views  are  all  right." 

"  But  I  don't  know  —  "  perhaps  Mr.  Quarles  had  been 
going  to  say  "yours,"  and  had  thought  better  of  it. 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  you  don't  know  mine  ?  I  can 
speedily  prove  to  you  what  I  am,  sir,"  exclaimed  Sency, 
with  great  earnestness. 

"  How  does  that  concern  me  f  But  go  ahead,  and  do 
your  proving." 

"  I  was  born  at  Warrenton,  Virginia,  in  1843." 

"  That  proves  nothing,  even  if  it  be  admitted." 

"I  studied  at  the  Virginia  Military  Institute  at 
Lexington." 

Quarles  nodded  slightly,  but  said  nothing  ;  indeed,  his 
nod  might  mean  a  shake. 

"  I  was  under  Professor  Jackson  —  afterward  Stone- 
wall Jackson." 


96  OLD  SQUIRE 

"You  are  proving  nothing  at  all." 

"  I  have  in  my  pocket  an  old  furlough  that  bears  the 
signatures  of  Fitzhugh  Lee,  Stuart,  and  R.  E.  Lee." 

"  Let  me  look  at  that  document,  if  you  please,"  says 
Quarles. 

Sency  brought  it  from  his  breast  pocket  —  a  lengthwise 
folded  sheet,  on  the  back  of  which  were  the  words,  "  For- 
warded approved  "  —  "  Forwarded  approved,"  with  three 
signatures,  followed  by  the  great  general's  autograph, 
giving  the  final  indorsement. 

Quarles  handed  it  back.  "  Yes,  I  suppose  such  things 
can  be  had." 

"  Do  you  know  a  man  named  Radman  ?  "  Sency  asked. 

"I  know  more  than  one  Radman." 

"And  you  know  Tom  Radman's  middle  name  —  so 
do  I." 

"What  is  it?" 

"You  know  as  well  as  I  that  he  never  tells  it  — 
Butler." 

"  Pretty  good  ;  anything  else  ?  " 

"  I  know  one  more  thing,  and  if  that  doesn't  convince 
you,  then  good-by  Mr.  Quarles  !  " 

"Let's  have  that  one  thing." 

"  Little  Mac  is  a  gentleman,"  whispered  the  Con- 
federate. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Mr.  Quarles,  but  at  the  same  instant 
he  stretched  out  his  clenched  fist  —  he  had  seen  one  of  his 
labourers  passing  with  face  to  the  porch  —  and  cried, 
"Get  out  of  here,  you  damned  rebel!  "  then  whispered  to 
the  visitor  turning  in  amazement,  "  Wait  down  at  the  road." 


DAHLGREN  97 

Mr.  Quarles  was  not  long  in  coming.  He  gave  all 
needed  information  in  regard  to  the  roads  and  the 
country,  but  knew  nothing  of  the  movements  of  the 
Federal  cavalry.  He  advised  the  Confederates  to  hide 
now,  and  make  their  way  by  night,  for  it  was  rumoured 
that  Stuart's  enemies  were  gathering  in  his  front  and 
rear. 

"  We  must  go  on,  sir,"  said  Morgan.  *'  Every  hour's 
delay  increases  the  danger." 

"  Your  horses  are  none  of  the  best,"  said  Quarles  ;  "  and 
I  don't  see  the  U.  S.  brand  on  a  one  of  'em." 

"  No  ;  branded  nothing  at  all ;  they  are  private 
property." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  how  you  men  can  make  it  by  daylight. 
You  might  ride  in  your  shirt  sleeves,  just  like  many  of 
the  Yankees  do  in  this  hot  weather  ;  but  if  you  get  any 
ways  near  'em  your  horses  would  give  you  away,  even  if 
your  breeches  wouldn't."  Mr.  Quarles's  voice  was  loud 
and  his  manner  positive. 

"  Can't  help  it.  We  must  risk  it,  sir.  Stuart  is  push- 
ing north,  and  we  must  overtake  him  this  night,  or  we 
shall  never  do  it." 

"  I  think  I  could  help  you  in  the  matter  of  the  horses," 
said  the  old  man  with  less  emphasis,  certainly,  but  more 
deliberation.  "  One  of  my  neighbours  has  half  a  dozen 
good  U.  S.  horses,  and  I  think  he'd  like  to  swap.  Good 
horses,  too  ;  he  bought  'em  when  they  were  thin,  and  he's 
brought  'em  out  all  right.  He's  afraid  the  Yankees  may 
give  him  trouble  about  'em  some  day,  and  he'll  be  glad  to 
trade  for  cattle  not  branded." 


98  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  We  must  go  on,"  said  Morgan. 

"  Well,  my  friend,  I'll  tell  you  the  straight  truth.  I'm 
interested  in  those  horses  myself,  and  I  don't  mind  telling 
you  that  they  never  were  broken  down.  They  are  good 
animals.  I  got  'em  by  a  slant,  and  I'm  in  constant  fear 
that  they  will  be  claimed  by  the  government.  They  are 
a  long  way  better  than  the  ones  you  are  on,  and  if  you 
want  a  good  trade  now's  your  time." 

"  Where  are  they  ? "  the  sergeant  asked,  with  some 
show  of  interest. 

"  Right  on  your  road.  You  won't  lose  half  an  hour  — 
you'll  gain  time,  for  they  are  fresh  and  will  stand  push- 
ing. They  are  at  the  third  place  you'll  pass  on  your  left. 
If  you  say  so,  I'll  get  there  before  you  do." 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Quarles ;  come  ahead  ;  we'll  look  into 
it,"  and  Morgan  gave  the  word  to  mount. 

"  Dan,"  says  Joe,  "  I'm  a-thinkin'  that  old  feller  is  in  a 
clost  place  and  wants  us  to  help  him  out.  I  reckon  he 
stole  'em.  Anyhow,  here  goes  for  pullin'  off  my  coat ; 
I'll  agree  to  that  part  of  his  doctrine." 

The  road  was  full  of  hoof  prints,  all  pointing  northward. 
In  this  thickly  populated  country  farm-houses  were  all 
about,  the  smoke  of  preparing  breakfast  rising  from  many 
chimneys  —  hardly  were  they  ever  beyond  sight  of  a  chim- 
ney. Yet  there  were  stretches  of  woodland  on  the 
streams,  and  many  small  groves  and  orchards.  Their  road 
now  turned  almost  due  northeast. 

"  What  do  you  think  about  the  swap,  George  ?  " 

"  Depends  on  what  he  offers,"  Sency  replied.  "  I'm  not 
going  to  be  cheated  in  order  to  get  a  U.  S,  horse.  I  don't 


DAHLGREN  99 

want  one  quite  that  bad  ;  but  I  hope  he  is  telling  the 
truth,  for  ours  are  none  the  better  for  want  of  rest.  He 
ought  to  be  willing  to  do  almost  anything  for  the  sake 
of  safety.  Don't  you  believe  that  he  is  interested  in 
some  of  Mosby's  people,  or  some  other  people  like 
Mosby's?" 

"  Yes,  I've  little  doubt  of  it,"  replied  Morgan. 

"  You  know  I  was  with  Mosby  on  one  of  his  raids  over 
here,  and  the  men  captured  more  horses  than  they  knew 
what  to  do  with.  What  do  you  suppose  they  did  with 
'em?" 

"  They  ought  to  have  killed  'em,"  said  Armstrong. 

"Yes,  but  they  didn't — that  is,  all  of  'em.  Some  of 
the  men  sold  'em  for  a  song  to  the  farmers,  and  some  of 
'em  just  gave  'em  away,  or  turned  'em  loose,  which 
amounted  to  the  same  thing,  for  no  doubt  the  farmers 
got  'em." 

"  But  if  they're  branded,  our  men  ahead  would  be  likely 
to  take  'em." 

"  Oh,  Dan,  he's  got  'em  well  hid  out ;  he's  so  afraid  of 
the  Yanks  that  I'm  hopeful  we'll  get  a  good  trade  ;  it 
took  my  last  word  to  convince  him  that  I  was  not  trying 
to  get  the  best  of  him  —  he  was  afraid  I  was  a  detective 
or  something." 

"  Mahs  Dan,  you  betteh  go  mighty  slow  a-swappin'  feh 
dem  hosses  you  ain't  nuvveh  know  noth'n'  about.  De  good 
book  hit  say  w'en  you  mek  a  trade  you  mus'  jedge  right ; 
dat  Misteh  Squalls  he  in  a  mighty  big  swivet  about 
swappin'." 

"  Yes,  Squire,  we'll  not  jump  at  the  thing.     When  we 


100  OLD  SQUIRE 

get  there,  I  want  you  to  keep  both  eyes  open  —  look  at  all 
of  'em  —  every  point." 

"  Yassah,  I  'spec'  he  done  shut  'era  up  in  de  daytime, 
an'  tuhn  'em  loose  in  his  pastuh  at  night ;  an'  den  he  ain't 
fed  'em  no  cawn  an'  de  las'  one  of  'em  is  got  de  scouahs 
f'om  eatin'  noth'n'  but  green  grass ;  an'  hit'll  be  a 
Gawd's  blessiu'  ef  dey  ain't  got  de  tendeh  huf,  too,  feh  de 
good  book  hit  say  dat  de  hoss  got  to  eat  de  hahd  cawn  ef 
he  gwine  to  stan'  up  to  he  bus'ness." 

"You  must  look  close,  old  man,  and  not  let  us  be 
cheated." 

"  If  they  swindle  Squire,  they'll  have  to  get  up  before 
day,"  says  Armstrong. 

"  Yassah,  dat  de  Gawd's  troof  ;  but  dat  Misteh  Squalls 
he  done  tuck  an'  got  up  befo'e  day  dis  mawnin'  ;  w'en  I 
come  up  to  him,  he  dess  a-smokin'  his  pipe  dess  lak  it  was 
atteh  breakfus',  an'  heah  wre  is,  ain't  had  not  a  mou'ful 

yit." 

The  third  place  on  the  left  was  reached.  A  tall  gate 
was  already  open  at  the  only  entrance  way  through  an 
impenetrable  hedge.  Mr.  Quarles  had  distanced  them  — 
had  known  how  to  take  a  short  cut,  he  said.  He  led  the 
way  up  to  a  dwelling  of  some  former  comfort,  but  now 
greatly  in  need  of  repairs.  Behind  the  house,  on  a 
steep  slope,  stood  a  large  barn,  to  which  building  the 
whole  party  descended.  In  the  stalls  were  nine  horses, 
all  of  them  evidently  ex-Federal.  Squire  went  the 
rounds. 

"Dis  un  got  th'ee  w'ite  hufs  —  dess  es  soon  have  a 
cow,"  the  old  man  muttered.  He  went  out  into  the  barn- 


DAHLGREN  101 

yard  and  returned  with  a  heavy  stone  and  struck  repeat- 
edly the  hoofs  of  the  animals  he  liked. 

"  Yassah,  Mahs  Dan,  Mistah  Squalls  he  say  he  done  fed 
'em  awn  dry  feed  all  de  time  —  an'  some  o'  de  cobs  izh 
heah  yit,  but  you  dunno  how  long  dese  crittehs  can  stan' 
up  undeh  yo'  weight  an'  Mahs  Chahley's,  noh  Mahs  Joe's 
notheh ;  cou'se  any  of  'em  kin  git  along  undeh  ole  Squiah 
—  'caze  I  ain't  noth'n'  but  a  runt,  nohow." 

Quarles  protested  that  the  horses  had  had  regular  exer- 
cise ;  every  night  they  had  been  turned  into  the  pasture, 
and  occasionally  one  had  been  ridden.  The  trade  was 
struck,  Mr.  Quarles  greatly  rejoicing  because  he  could 
now  sell  unsuspected  property. 

Morgan's  men,  on  fresh  mounts,  rode  rapidly,  Arm- 
strong boisterously  praising  his  new  horse.  Indeed,  they 
were  all  elated,  except  old  Squire,  who  had  felt  his  own 
beast  begin  to  stumble.  Taking  Quarles's  advice  they 
pushed  due  north  through  Gaithersburg,  cutting  off  the 
great  angle  at  Rockville,  thus  gaining  miles  on  Stuart's 
march,  and  at  ten  o'clock  reached  the  road  for  Westmin- 
ster. At  the  junction  they  paused :  men  were  seen  com- 
ing from  the  north,  —  five  cavalrymen  of  yet  unknown 
colour.  Morgan  decided  instantly  that  retreat  was  impos- 
sible— impudence  alone  was  prudent ;  he  gave  the  word 
to  his  men  —  they  must  dash  by  the  approaching  squad. 
Armstrong  was  with  Sency  in  front,  the  sergeant  was 
with  Joe  at  the  rear ;  but  where  was  Squire  ?  Morgan 
had  just  observed  that  the  old  man  was  missing;  but  there 
was  no  time  to  lose — the  meeting  would  be  in  a  moment, 
for  the  squad  came  at  a  gallop  ;  the  four  rushed  forward. 


102  OLD  SQUIRE 

Between  his  teeth  Morgan  called,  "  Salute  them  !  *' 

In  double  velocity  the  two  groups  passed  each  other  at 
such  a  storm  that  the  Confederates  were  uncertain  as  to 
the  character  of  those  whom  they  had  met,  for  they,  also, 
were  in  their  shirt  sleeves  ;  but  Morgan  looked  back,  and 
saw  the  men  coming  to  a  halt  and  turning  in  their  saddles 
and  gesticulating. 

"  Look  out  ahead !  "  roared  Armstrong,  and  Morgan's 
face  came  with  a  jerk  to  the  right  about,  and  he  saw,  com- 
ing, a  troop  of  horse,  which  he  knew  to  be  the  main  body 
for  which  the  squad  was  but  the  advance  guard;  the 
speed  had  slackened. 

"  What  are  they,  George  ?  "  cried  the  sergeant. 

"Yankees,  undoubtedly  —  so  were  the  others." 

Morgan  again  turned  ;  the  squad  were  pursuing  their 
way;  no  doubt  they  had  decided  that  the  main  body 
would  speedily  settle  the  question. 

The  sergeant  debated  rapidly  :  would  the  commander 
of  this  troop  consider  them  orthodox  simply  because  his 
advance  guard  had  allowed  them  to  run  into  greater  peril  ? 
Not  much  time  did  Morgan  have  ;  the  Federals  were 
within  forty  rods,  coming  at  a  trot. 

"  To  the  right,  Charley  !  "  he  exclaimed.  He  could  not 
expect  this  large  body  to  give  him  half  the  road  ;  even  if 
unquestioned  at  the  moment  of  meeting  the  head  of  the 
column,  his  speed  must  be  diminished  for  lack  of  ground, 
and  the  colour  of  the  trousers  would  be  known  easily. 

A  narrow  lane  was  leading  up  to  a  farm-house  some  three 
hundred  yards  from  the  highway.  Sency  and  Armstrong 
turned  up  the  lane  in  a  trot,  Morgan  and  Joe  following. 


DAHLGREN  103 

"  Walk  ! "  ordered  the  sergeant.  He  hoped  that  the 
Federals  would  pass  without  attempting  to  examine  them  ; 
then  he  would  wait  for  Squire. 

At  their  left,  by  turning  a  little,  they  could  see  the  head 
of  the  cavalry  column  not  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty 
yards  away  and  getting  nearer,  for  the  speed  of  the  Fed- 
erals was  the  greater. 

Morgan  ordered  Armstrong  and  Sency  to  keep  their 
faces  to  the  front  and  ride  on  ;  he  ordered  Joe  to  ride  on ; 
he  brought  his  own  horse  to  a  slow  walk,  and  let  his  com- 
rades distance  him.  He  threw  his  right  leg  over  his  saddle 
and  bent  over,  seeming  to  seek  timely  comfort. 

An  instant  more  and  "  Halt !  halt  !  "  came  from  his 
rear. 

Morgan  halted ;  the  three  others  were  riding  on — some 
sixty  yards  away. 

Morgan  turned  his  horse  to  face  the  challengers  .  .  . 
his  party  were  riding  on  ...  three  Federals  were  riding 
up  the  lane  .  .  .  their  speed  lessened  .  .  .  the  troop  in 
their  rear  was  passing  the  mouth  of  the  lane  .  .  .  the 
foremost  Federal  turned  and  waved  his  hand  ...  his 
two  followers  went  to  the  right  about  and  followed  after 
the  troop. 

Morgan  made  sure  that  his  right-hand  pistol  was  easy 
in  its  holster  ;  he  could  see  that  the  man  approaching 
was  an  officer  ;  better  to  ride  forward  and  meet  him  — 
now  he  could  see  his  shoulder-straps.  "  Good  morning, 
Captain,"  he  shouted,  almost  guessing  at  his  rank ;  then, 
before  any  response  had  been  made,  "  Can  you  tell  me 
where  I  can  find  the  general  ?  " 


104  OLD  SQUIRE 

The  Federal  halted.  Morgan  saw  that  he  was  very 
young  —  younger  than  himself ;  yet  as  he  sat  his  horse 
he  looked  all  of  a  man  —  a  stern  soldier,  and  a  hardy, 
though  handsome  and  of  refined  features.  Not  two  rods 
separated  the  horsemen  —  one  trembling  inwardly  with 
suspense,  the  other's  face  unmoved  at  first  as  he  raised 
his  right  hand  and  held  it  before  him  to  shield  his  eyes 
while  he  looked  up  the  hill  on  Morgan,  for  the  sun  was 
directly  in  his  front ;  yet  the  palm  of  his  hand  was  out- 
ward ;  even  at  the  expense  of  awkwardness  the  owner's 
dignity  must  not  be  permitted  to  suffer  by  discourtesy 
to  another. 

All  at  once  the  Confederate  saw  that  his  antagonist's 
countenance  had  changed  :  indifference  had  yielded  to  an 
expression  of  bewilderment  or  other  feeling  which  the 
sergeant  knew  not  accurately  to  construe ;  for  up  to  this 
point  he  had  but  attempted  to  play  the  part  of  any 
Federal  —  not  the  part  of  one  only  Federal.  Morgan, 
also,  had  raised  his  hand,  to  return  what  he  had  momen- 
tarily conceived  a  salute,  but  his  hand  had  dropped  quickly 
to  his  side,  while  the  other's  hand  remained  in  the  air. 

Perhaps  not  three  seconds  had  passed,  the  officer  silent 
and  preserving  his  attitude,  when,  moved  by  some  inex- 
plicable cause  such  as  affects  one  at  peculiar  times  through 
a  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  Morgan  smiled. 

"  Aha  !  "  cried  the  Federal,  instantly,  and  lowering  his 
hand,  "  is  it  you,  really  ?  " 

"  Really  and  truly,  Captain,"  answered  Morgan,  with  as 
much  coolness  as  his  amazement  would  allow,  his  smile  gone, 
serious,  alert,  dreading  this  man  of  mysterious  approach. 


DAHLGREN  105 

"  Well,  I'll  swear,"  said  the  officer,  coming  nearer ; 
"  who  would  have  expected  to  find  you  here  ?  We  heard 
you  had  been  killed,  or  at  least  so  badly  wounded  that 
you  couldn't  move.  I  believe  I  remember  that  you  asked 
me  about  the  general,  and  in  my  perplexity  I  failed  to 
answer.  Pleasonton  is  up  above  —  near  Frederick,  some- 
where. How  in  the  name  of  sense  do  they  spread  such 
reports  ?  " 

"  And  where  is  Stuart  with  his  gang  ? "  exclaimed 
Morgan,  his  first  wonder  supplanted  by  a  greater,  yet 
ready  now  to  play  the  part  forced  upon  him. 

"  Gone  north  toward  Hanover.  How  did  you  get 
here  ?  I'll  swear  I  didn't  know  you  till  you  smiled ; 
you've  changed.  Why,  man,  don't  you  know  that  your 
conduct  is  disgraceful  in  the  extreme  ?  You  were  given 
up  for  gone  —  dead,  wounded,  missing,  a  triple  casualty, 
and  yet  here  you  are,  just  the  same  as  ever,  except  that 
you  don't  seem  quite  strong  yet.  For  mercy's  sake,  give 
me  your  recipe." 

"Well,  Captain,  my  horse  was  killed,  but  strange  to 
say  I  wasn't.  But  I  was  cut  off  and  had  to  stay  on  the 
south  side.  I  picked  up  a  darky  who  helped  me  ;  he's 
with  me  still,  lingering  behind  somewhere.  I'll  be 
obliged  if  you'll  hurry  him  up  when  you  meet  him. 
Can't  you  come  up  to  the  house  yonder  and  help  me  get 
breakfast,  Captain  ?  " 

"No,  Morgan,  I  must  ride  on.  I'm  on  urgent  business; 
the  general  has  given  me  twenty  men,  and  I'm  after  big 
game.  To  tell  you  the  truth,"  and  now  the  officer's  voice 
was  low,  "  we've  learned  that  a  messenger  from  Jeff 


106  OLD  SQUIRE 

Davis  is  trying  to  make  his  way  through  to  Lee,  and  I'm 
going  to  catch  him  if  the  thing  can  be  done." 

"  But  you  don't  expect  to  find  him  as  low  as  this, 
surely  ?  "  exclaimed  the  Confederate. 

"  We  are  taking  care  of  every  ford.  I'm  now  on  my 
way  up  higher,"  said  the  officer,  whose  frank  eye  had  not 
once  left  the  rebel's  face. 

"  And  where  is  the  army  ?  "  asked  Morgan. 

"  I  bet  a  pretty  penny  that  you  don't  know  a  word  of 
the  big  news,"  the  captain  exclaimed. 

"No  —  tell  me  quick." 

"  You  wouldn't  guess  in  a  week." 

"  Don't  keep  me  in  suspense,  Captain." 

"  Well,  then,  here  goes  :  one,  two,  and  Meade  is  in 
command." 

"  Command  of  —  you  don't  mean  it !  " 

"  On  honour.  George  Gordon  Meade,  Major-General 
commanding  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  !  That's  been 
Lord  George's  style  for  the  last  twenty-four  hours." 

"By  Jove  !" 

"  No  ...  By  George  !  And  once  more  .  .  .  shut  your 
eyes  now  ;  the  thing's  personal  to  you  !  Ready  ?  " 

Morgan  nodded. 

"  It  gives  me  heart-felt  pleasure  to  tell  you  that  you 
have  been  promoted  to  a  first  lieutenancy,  Morgan  ;  and 
that,  too,  for  a  reason  that  all  your  friends  will  rejoice  to 
hear  and  to  speak  of  —  gallantry  on  the  field  of  battle." 

Morgan  gave  no  reply  to  this  speech ;  perhaps  it  was  as 
well,  for  the  look  that  dashed  over  his  features  as  he 
thought  proudly  of  the  distinction  to  his  family  might 


DAHLGREN  107 

easily  be  attributed  to  proper  confusion  on  his  own 
account. 

"  Truth,  I  tell  you,  and  Pleasonton  has  had  your  name 
read  out  in  orders." 

"  Indeed  that  is  news,  Captain,  and  you  make  me  very 
proud.  What  does  it  all  mean  ?  and  what  do  they  all 
say  about  Meade  ?  " 

"  Well,  they  say  everything.  But  I  think  that  the 
average  opinion  is  good-natured  at  the  bottom.  Of 
course  everybody  thinks  it  risky  to  *  change  horses  in  the 
middle  of  the  stream,'  as  your  Uncle  Abe  puts  it ;  but  the 
thing's  done,  and  Hooker's  gone,  and  Dahlgren  is  out  of 
a  job  .  .  .  perhaps!  I'm  on  this  messenger  business,  and 
when  I  get  back  there's  no  telling  what  Meade  will  do 
with  me.  Two  to  one  he's  already  got  four  men  spotted 
for  my  place.  Say,  Morgan,  do  you  know  whether 
Rowser's  Ford  is  held  by  us  yet  ?  Really,  that's  just  what 
I  halted  you  to  inquire  about." 

"  Was  this  morning  about  two  o'clock.  I  crossed 
there." 

"Know  who's  there?" 

"  Captain  Freeman  is  the  officer's  name,  I  think.  You 
going  there  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  going  higher.     Was  Freeman  to  come  on  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply  at  a  venture. 

"  None  of  our  men  south  of  the  river  ?  " 

"  None  nearer  than  Fairfax.  I  had  trouble  in  getting 
through,  as  you  may  well  suppose." 

"  I  see  you  have  on  gray  trousers." 

"  Yes ;  put  'em  on  before  I  got  to  the  river  ;  and  now 


108  OLD  SQUIRE 

they're   all   I've  got.      Will  I  have  trouble  above  here, 
Captain  ?  " 

"Well,  you  may,  but  I  think  not.  Stuart  has  gone 
north,  it's  true,  but  all  you  have  to  do  to  avoid  him  is  to 
take  the  first  road  to  your  left ;  it's  not  more  than  half  a 
mile — but  you'd  better  look  out."  The  captain's  voice 
was  growing  louder  at  each  word,  for  he  had  turned  bridle, 
and  was  moving  away.  "  Give  the  general  my  regards, 
and  Cohen,"  and  Captain  Ulric  Dahlgren,  formerly 
General  Hooker's  aide,  galloped  back  down  the  lane, 
leaving  Morgan  to  follow  after  his  comrades  in  peace,  but 
in  a  torment  of  curiosity  to  know  more  of  this  Captain 
Dahlgren,  who  seemed  so  familiar  with  Andrew ;  and  then 
the  sergeant  chuckled  at  the  thought  of  the  scene  when 
Freeman  and  Dahlgren  should  compare  notes. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A   CASE   OF   KNOWING 

"  And  what's  impossible  can't  be, 
And  never,  never  comes  to  pass." 

COLMAN. 

WHEN,  as  already  related,  Morgan's  men,  at  ten  o'clock, 
reached  the  road  for  Westminster,  and  saw  the  six  cavalry- 
men who  afterward  proved  to  be  the  advance  guard  of 
Dahlgren's  troop,  old  Squire  was  not  more  than  a  furlong 
behind.  He  heard  the  galloping  horses,  as  his  friends 
rushed  away,  and,  a  few  minutes  later,  the  rapid  approach 
of  the  squad  of  Federals,  but  a  swell  of  the  ground  hid 
them  as  they  passed  southeast  athwart  the  joining  of  the 
two  roads. 

Squire's  horse  was  in  a  bad  way  ;  the  rider  knew  that 
he  could  ride  but  little  farther,  for  he  had  exhausted  the 
influence  of  kicks  and  blows,  and  progress  was  becoming 
slower  at  every  yard.  In  momentary  despair  he  ceased 
to  urge,  and  the  beast  began  to  nibble  at  the  tall  bushes 
in  a  fence  corner  by  the  roadside,  but  soon  ceased  even 
this  exertion,  and  stood  stock  still.  The  negro  dis- 
mounted and  was  examining  the  horse's  hoofs  when  a 
second  and  louder  noise  arrested  his  attention  —  the 
sound  of  Dahlgren's  main  body,  coming  at  a  trot,  scab- 
bards rattling,  a  hundred  horseshoes  striking  the  flinty 

109 


110  OLD  SQUIRE 

earth,  the  noise  of  laugh  and  speech  from  many  men ; 
and  Squire,  unable  to  know  whether  they  were  friends 
or  the  enemies  of  his  friends,  cowered  in  the  bushes 
lest  he  be  seen. 

When  the  troop  had  passed  at  right  angles  to  his 
course,  the  negro  again  tried  to  help  his  horse,  and  soon 
took  a  pebble  from  one  of  the  hoofs,  giving  but  the 
smallest  temporary  relief,  however,  the  case  requiring 
rest  and  food  more  than  superficial  treatment ;  yet  he 
was  encouraged  to  remount,  and  by  dint  of  loud  speech 
and  violent  bodily  exercise  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
junction  of  the  two  roads,  where,  looking  north,  he  saw 
a  single  horseman  coming  at  a  great  gallop. 

Captain  Ulric  Dahlgren,  only  twenty-one  years  of  age, 
was  already  distinguished  for  audacious  ingenuity  in  war. 
The  son  of  Admiral  Dahlgren,  his  social  and  military 
prospects  were  great ;  and  his  own  worth  was  unques- 
tioned. His  first  service  had  been  to  assist  the  ordnance 
department  in  the  important  duty  of  disposing  the  bat- 
teries at  Harper's  Ferry  ;  this  engineering  work  accom- 
plished, Dahlgren  went  to  the  field  and  served  as  aide  to 
General  Sigel  in  the  Valley  campaign  against  Stonewall 
Jackson.  On  November  9, 1862,  three  days  after  General 
Burnside  had  taken  command  of  the  army,  Dahlgren  rode 
through  the  streets  of  Fredericksburg  at  the  head  of 
Sigel's  body-guard,  seized  prisoners,  captured  supplies, 
and  gained  the  knowledge  that  prompt  action  would 
put  the  heights  beyond  Fredericksburg  in  the  power  of 
the  Union  army,  and  that  army  on  the  right  flank  of 
Lee's.  Dahlgren  was  at  once  appointed  to  a  position 


A  CASE  OF   KNOWING  111 

on  the  general  staff ;  the  army  moved  promptly,  and  it 
was  through  no  fault  of  Burnside  that  dilatoriness  spoiled 
his  campaign.  He  reached  the  Falmouth  hills  before  Lee's 
advance  had  occupied  the  opposite  range  —  the  army  had 
marched  well,  but  only  to  find  that  it  was  forced  to  a 
protracted  halt  because  the  necessary  bridge  material  had 
not  been  provided  by  the  authorities  in  Washington. 

After  Burnside,  Dahlgren  had  served  Hooker,  and 
now,  although  in  Morgan's  presence  he  had  modestly 
disclaimed  the  high  esteem  in  which  he  was  held  by 
the  future  conqueror  of  Gettysburg,  was  beginning  ser- 
vice under  Meade,  who  had  already  designated  him  as 
a  member  of  the  general  household. 

When  Dahlgren  rode  back  out  of  the  lane  into  which 
he  had  followed  Morgan,  his  men  were  no  longer  visible, 
and  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse.  At  the  top  of  the  next  hill 
the  captain  saw  a  negro  man,  mounted,  coming  at  a  slow 
walk,  and,  a  little  nearer,  could  see  that  the  negro  was 
old  and  small,  with  none  of  the  marks  of  a  combatant. 
Indeed,  there  were  as  yet  no  negro  troops  in  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac,  and  but  for  the  fact  that  this  negro  was 
on  a  trooper's  saddle,  Dahlgren  would  have  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  attributing  to  him  all  the  qualities  that  disfigure 
and  adorn  peaceful  rusticity  and  bondage. 

The  captain  halted  ;  so  did  Squire,  with  profound  obei- 
sance. 

"  Whose  horse  is  that  you're  on,  old  man  ?  " 

"  Dis  hoss,  Mahsta  ?  Dis  boss  he  b'longs  to  de  sojehs 
w'at  done  went  awn  ahaid  ;  he  don't  b'long  to  me,  sah, 
dat  he  don't.  Ef  he  b'long  to  me  I'd  git  shet  of  'im,  sah, 


112  OLD  SQUIRE 

'caze  de  good  book  hit  say  dat  de  boss  rush  into  de  battle  ; 
but  dis  un  he  ain't  wuff  de  salt  dat  he  git  ev'y  Sunday. 
I  done  got  so  fuh  behime  dat  I's  afeahed  I  ain't  nuvveh 
gwine  to  ketch  up.  Did  ju  meet  'em,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  I  met  Lieutenant  Morgan  and  two  or  three  men.  Do 
you  belong  with  them  ?  " 

"  Mahs  Dan  Mawgin  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Yassah,  but  I  ain't  nuweh  knowed  dat  he  was  lieu- 
tenant, Mahsta." 

"No,  he  didn't  know  until  I  told  him.  Are  you  the 
man  who  helped  him  out  over  yonder  ?  " 

"I  dunno,  Mahsta,  dat  I  he'ped  him  out  much  wuff 
talkin'  about,  but  I  be'n  stickin'  to  'im  long  es  I  could, 
sah,  feh  de  good  book  hit  say  be  ye  faithful  to  de  eend, 
an'  I  'spec'  I  mos'  done  got  to  de  eend  now,  sah,  'caze  de 
good  book  hit  say  de  fust  gwine  to  be  de  las',  an'  I  knows 
I  done  be'n  de  fust  a-leadin'  de  way  in  dat  fohd,  an'  now 
I's  de  las'  feh  true.  How  fuh  is  dey  done  got  ahaid, 
Mahsta?" 

Dahlgren  was  moving  on.  "  Half  a  mile  by  this  time. 
Morgan  told  me  to  hurry  you  up,"  he  shouted,  turning. 

"  Yassah,"  Squire  replied,  greatly  rejoicing  that  the  act 
seemed  about  to  end  so  well ;  but  in  a  moment  the  Federal 
halted,  as  though  a  new  thought  had  come. 

"  You  crossed  at  Bowser's,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"Yassah,"  Squire  shouted  in  reply,  then,  feeling  a 
necessity  for  providing  a  way  to  evade,  "leastways  hit 
wus  down  dah  some'h's,  Mahsta  —  dat's  w'at  dey  called 
it." 


A  CASE  OF   KNOWING  113 

"Deep?" 

"  Yassah,  hit  mos'  swum  de  bosses." 

The  captain  used  his  spurs  and  soon  overtook  his  com- 
mand. His  thought  was  peculiarly  tinged  ;  ever  since 
he  had  met  Morgan  he  had  suffered  a  sensation  which  he 
dimly  felt  was  uncanny.  He  had  been  in  some  degree 
familiar  with  Junior  (as  Andrew  was  called),  whom  he 
had  known  as  a  daring  courier  serving  Pleasonton  imme- 
diately, and  with  whom  he  had  been  slightly  associated  in 
more  than  one  small  exploit.  The  news  that  Morgan  had 
been  mortally  wounded  had  given  Dahlgren  pain,  and  the 
surprising  discovery  that  the  courier  was  well  and  strong 
had  made  him  rejoice,  yet  there  was  mingled  with  the  sur- 
prise and  joy  an  indefinite  feeling  of  discomfort  which  he 
could  not  analyze.  "  Wonder  if  I'm  getting  superstitious 
in  my  old  age,"  he  thought.  "  That  fellow  Junior  Morgan 
makes  me  feel  as  though  I'd  met  a  ghost  in  broad  daylight. 
I  almost  wish  I  hadn't  seen  him.  Who  was  it  that  started 
that  report  about  his  being  a  dead  man  ?  He  had  heard 
of  it,  himself  —  at  least  he  showed  no  surprise  when  I  gave 
him  credit  for  his  resurrection.  I'm  going  to  make  him 
tell  me  all  about  it  when  I  get  through  with  this  mes- 
senger business.  Ah  !  Yonder  they  are ;  wonder  why 
they've  halted." 

Before  him,  at  no  great  distance,  was  a  larger  body  of 
troops  than  his  own,  all  seemingly  at  a  stand  in  the  road  ; 
but  in  a  moment  there  was  a  stir,  and  now  Dahlgren  saw 
faces  as  well  as  backs,  and  knew  that  his  troop  was  meet- 
ing and  passing  some  other  command. 

"Good   morning,   Dahlgren,"   cried   an   officer   at   the 


114  OLD  SQUIRE 

head  of  the  approaching  column,  and  then  halted  while 
his  company  rode  on  north. 

"Freeman?  The  very  man  I  wanted  to  see,"  and 
Dahlgren  reined  up. 

"  Halt  !  "  came  Freeman's  order  to  his  company. 

"  Road  clear  to  Rowser's,  Captain  ?  "  asked  Dahlgren. 

"  Suppose  so;  camped  there  last  night  and  came  through 
this  morning.  Guess  all  of  Stuart's  are  out  of  the  way  by 
this  time,"  replied  Freeman,  and  then  added  with  a  loud 
laugh,  "but  I  don't  know  where  Mosby  is." 

"  You  got  there  last  night,  did  you,  Freeman  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  been  over  in  Loudoun  on  a  special  job  ;  the 
general  sent  a  runner  to  warn  us.  Thought  we  were  go- 
ing to  have  trouble,  but  found  that  Stuart  had  got  out  of 
our  way  long  before  we  knew  he'd  been  in  it,"  and  Free- 
man's tones  and  movements  of  the  head  were  not  compli- 
mentary to  the  Federal  generalship. 

"  How  far  do  you  call  it  from  Rowser's  to  Edwards 
Ferry?" 

"  Just  about  ten  miles  ;  you  mean  by  this  side,  of 
course  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  what  I  want  to  know  is  whether  there  is  any 
crossing  place  between  Rowser's  and  Edwards." 

"  For  troops,  you  mean  ? "  asked  Freeman,  showing 
great  interest. 

"  No,  for  anybody  ;  I'm  to  look  out  for  a  man  with  a 
small  escort." 

"  Ah  !  Well,  people  cross  at  many  places  ;  but  there's 
no  good  ford  for  public  use  between  the  two,  so  far  as  I 
know.  What's  up,  Dahlgren  ?  " 


A  CASE  OF  KNOWING  115 

"A  messenger  from  Davis  to  Lee." 

"  Like  hunting  a  needle  in  a  haystack,"  exclaimed 
Freeman. 

"  Well,  the  hunt  is  good  exercise.  You  know  the  news 
about  Meade  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  between  you  and  me  I'm  glad  of  it," 
replied  Freeman.  "  Meade's  a  gentleman  and  a  scholar, 
as  well  as  a  man  and  a  general.  Any  news  of  Lee  ?  " 

"Not  a  word  that  means  anything  definite.  Ewell  has 
been  at  Carlisle  and  seems  now  to  be  making  for  Harris- 
burg,  but  what  Hill  and  Longstreet  are  doing  nobody 
knows.  Meade  is  marching,  but  not  rapidly  —  waiting 
for  developments.  I'm  to  report  back  wherever  I  find 
him — God  knows  where." 

"  You  learned  nothing  of  Stuart  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  he's  somewhere  up  the  road  —  about  Han- 
over by  this  time.  At  what  hour  did  you  leave  Rowser's, 
Freeman  ?  " 

"  We  staid  there  till  eight  this  morning.  It  was  thought 
that  more  of  Stuart's  people  might  be  coming  on  —  and 
in  fact  I  guess  a  few  of  them  did  get  through  last  night. 
We  had  quite  a  scurry  for  a  little  while.  We're  bound 
for  Frederick  ;  which  road  did  you  come  ?  " 

"  Down  by  New  Market." 

"  Wonder  you  didn't  strike  against  the  rebels  that  got 
by  me  at  Rowser's  last  night,"  said  Freeman,  in  a  tone 
that  indicated  soliloquy  rather  than  inquiry. 

"  How  many  were  they  ?  " 

"  Don't    know  —  not   more   than    twenty  or    thirty,  I 


116  OLD  SQUIRE 

guess.  It  was  so  dark  you  couldn't  see  —  and  then  they 
forded  down  below  —  not  at  Rowser's  exactly." 

"  Possibly  they  were  the  very  party  I'm  after,  Free- 
man. What  time  was  it  when  they  got  through  ?  " 

"  Little  before  day." 

"  They  must  have  been  close  on  Morgan's  heels." 

"What  Morgan?" 

"  Dan,  or  Junior,  as  they  call  him.  Pleasonton's 
courier,  or  aide,  I  suppose  we  should  call  him  now.  He's 
promoted  for  gallantry  at  Aldie  and  elsewhere.  The 
same  man  that  passed  you  at  Rowser's  this  morning ;  a 
downright  good  fellow  all  over." 

"Dahlgren,  to  save  me  from  sin,  I  can't  understand 
what  you're  talking  about,"  exclaimed  Freeman,  with 
great  earnestness. 

Dahlgren  had  dismounted  ;  at  this  moment  his  left  foot 
was  in  his  stirrup  —  he  must  ride  on. 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  Morgan  ?  He  was  reported 
mortally  wounded  at  Aldie  last  week  and  probably  a 
prisoner." 

"  Yes,  I  know  Morgan  ;  that  is,  I  don't  know  him  per- 
sonally, but  I  do  by  reputation  ;  and  what  I  don't  know 
most  is  why  you  should  say  that  the  squad  of  rebels  that 
crossed  at  Rowser's  Ford  last  night  were  close  on  his 
heels,  and  that  he  crossed  there  also." 

"  Only  this  and  nothing  more  :  I  met  Morgan  up 
yonder  about  ten  o'clock,  and  he  told  me  that  he  crossed 
there  before  you  had  left,"  and  Dahlgren  mounted. 

"  Hold  on  ! "  shouted  Freeman.  At  the  next  instant 
he  saw  difficulties  ;  it  would  be  a  matter  of  delicacy  to 


A  CASE   OF  KNOWING  .  117 

tell  Dahlgren  —  a  man  positive,  peremptory  —  that  he 
was  duped  by  his  own  error  ;  yet  something  must  be 
said,  and  Freeman  recovered  sufficiently  to  decide  on 
adroitness. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  asked  Dahlgren. 

"Are  you  sure  that  you  know  Morgan?" 

"  Dead  sure,  and  I  thought  you  did  too,  for  he  told  me 
that  you  were  holding  the  ford,"  and  General  Meade's 
aide  smiled  to  see  the  look  of  utter  bewilderment  that 
spread  over  Freeman's  whole  face,  from  which  all  shadow 
of  adroitness  had  gone. 

"  Brock  !  O  Brock  !  Come  here  at  once  !  "  shouted 
Captain  Freeman  ;  then,  in  a  lower  voice,  he  said  :  "  I'm 
going  to  prove  to  you  that  Morgan  is  not  north  of  the 
Potomac,  Captain.  No,  sir  ;  nobody  has  passed  Rowser's 
Ford  except  the  squad  of  rebels  —  and  they  crossed  below 
—  and  a  man  or  two  with  passes  who  came  over  since 
daylight." 

Dahlgren  made  no  comment,  except  that  which  was 
indicated  by  the  change  that  converted  his  smile  of  assur- 
ance into  one  of  incredulity. 

"  Lieutenant,"  said  Freeman,  as  Brock  hastened  up,  "  I 
want  to  present  you  to  Captain  Dahlgren,  of  the  general 
staff  "...  the  customary  salutes,  and  words,  and  hand- 
shaking ..."  and  to  ask  you  whether  you  know  Lieu- 
tenant Daniel  Morgan  of  General  Pleasonton's  staff?" 

"  Seriously,  Captain  ?  "  inquired  Brock,  with  a  dash  of 
suspicion  in  his  voice. 

"  Yes,  seriously ;  a  question  has  come  up,"  replied 
Freeman,  his  voice  tremulous. 


118  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Certainly,  I  know  him  ;  at  least  in  a  sense  ;  I've  seen 
him,"  said  Brock. 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  is  now  ?  "  asked  Freeman, 
assertively. 

"  Well,"  says  Brock,  "  I  can't  swear  it  exactly,  but  I  can 
come  pretty  near  it.  We  left  him  yesterday  at  noon 
between  Middleburg  and  Aldie,  and  I  guess  he's  there 
yet." 

"Of  course,  he  was  there  —  no  doubt  about  that," 
Dahlgren  broke  in. 

"  But  wait  I  What  was  his  condition  ?  "  asked  Free- 
man. 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  to  prophesy,"  said  Brock,  with  an 
ominous  shake  of  his  head ;  "but  if  he  was  not  at  the  very 
gate  of  death,  then  I  never  saw  a  living  man  in  danger 
before." 

"Yet  I  saw  him  hardly  an  hour  ago,  up  yonder," 
exclaimed  Dahlgren,  somewhat  huskily,  pointing  north- 
ward. 

"  Some  other  man,  Captain,"  said  Brock,  who  had  not 
yet  stopped  his  shaking  of  the  head,  and  increasing  that 
sign  into  one  of  vehement  negation. 

"  Tell  me  what  he  looks  like,  Lieutenant." 

Brock  shook  his  head  some  more,  saying :  "  Looked  like 
a  dead  man,  Captain.  Face  white  as  a  sheet." 

"Yesterday?" 

"Yes." 

"  But  don't  I  tell  you  that  I  talked  with  him  for  fifteen 
minutes  ?  He  told  me  himself  that  he  had  been  given  up 
for  lost  or  dead." 


A  CASE  OF  KNOWING  119 

"  Impossible,  Dahlgren,  clearly  impossible  ;  we  were 
sent  specially  to  get  Morgan  —  my  whole  company  —  and 
Dr.  Lacy  —  you  know  Lacy  ?  —  he  was  sent  with  us  with 
all  sorts  of  surgical  things  —  an  ambulance  —  a  patent 
mattress,  and  God  knows  what  else  —  and  we  got  Morgan, 
I  tell  you,  got  him  out  of  a  house  down  there  —  why,  man, 
he  couldn't  talk  —  he  was  perfectly  speechless  —  partly 
paralyzed,  Lacy  said  —  and  when  we  got  orders  to  ride,  we 
had  to  leave  the  man,  and  Lacy  stuck  by  him  —  and  is 
with  him  yet.  You're  dead  wrong,  "  and  Freeman's  face 
had  a  desperate  look  upon  it  as  though  he  would  have 
chosen  the  proof  of  his  own  version  rather  than  Morgan's 
safety  and  Dahlgren's  triumph. 

"  You  got  the  wrong  man,"  said  Dahlgren,  coldly ; 
then,  without  waiting  for  any  response,  he  said :  "  You  see, 
I  know  Dan  Morgan  ;  I've  been  with  him  more  than  once  ; 
and  I  not  only  talked  with  him  this  morning,  but  I  met  the 
negro  to  whom  he  owes  his  safety.  He  told  me  about  the 
negro,  and  then  I  met  the  old  darky,  following  with  a 
lame  horse  ;  he  asked  me  how  far  Morgan  was  ahead. 
You  gentlemen  have  picked  up  the  wrong  man  by  mistake. 
Who  told  you  that  your  man  was  Junior  Morgan  ?  " 

Brock  and  Freeman  looked  into  each  other's  eyes. 
Could  it  be  that  Dahlgren  was  right,  after  all?  That 
old  darky  again! 

"  We  were  notified  that  Morgan  was  lying  desperately 
wounded  at  the  house  of  a  citizen  named  Armstrong.  The 
people  sent  us  a  messenger  —  an  old  negro  —  to  tell  us  that 
we  might  come  and  get  Morgan  —  and,  by  the  Lord  !  I 
guess  you're  right,  Dahlgren." 


120  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  What  is  it  now  ?  "  asked  Dahlgren. 

"Why,  that  same  negro  turned  up  at  Rowser's  last 
night,  and  caused  a  rumpus  that  I've  never  been  able  to 
see  into." 

The  superior  smile  on  Dahlgren's  face  did  not  tend  to 
assist  Freeman's  confession.  Not  every  man  bold  enough 
to  face  battle  without  nervousness  is  sufficiently  coura- 
geous to  admit  that  some  one  has  made  a  fool  of  him ;  but 
Freeman  was  both  bold  and  brave.  "I  guess  you're 
right,  Dahlgren  ;  we  must  have  been  worked,  but  for 
what  purpose  I'm  at  a  loss  to  know.  What  sort  of  a 
negro  was  that  you  say  you  met  ?  " 

"Why,  a  most  respectable  old  fellow;  must  have  been 
about  sixty;  small,  and  tough-looking." 

"  Gray-headed  ?  " 

"Yes,"  says  Dahlgren. 

"  Tell  you  his  name  ?  " 

"No,"  says  Dahlgren. 

"  Nothing  peculiar  about  him  ?  " 

"  I  took  him  for  a  well-raised  old  darky  —  one  of  your 
privileged  patriarchs  that  they  call  *  Uncle.'  He  said 
'  Mahsta '  rather  frequently,  and  showed  a  fondness  for 
Scripture." 

"  God  ! "  said  Brock,  and  then  roared  with  laughter,  in 
which,  spite  of  himself,  Dahlgren  soon  joined  more  moder- 
ately. 

Yet  Freeman's  consternation  was  but  momentary.  "  I 
don't  see  what  there  is  so  funny  in  this  mixture,"  he 
exclaimed  ;  "  here  you  go  to  show  that  the  same  old  nig- 
ger that  handed  Morgan  over  to  us  tells  you  that  he  is 


A  CASE  OF  KNOWING  121 

attached  to  Morgan.  And  you  saw  Morgan.  In  one 
case  the  nigger  delivers  to  us  a  dying  man  named  Morgan, 
and  in  the  other  he  follows  a  man  whom  you  know  to  be 
Lieutenant  Morgan  uninjured.  How  do  you  account  for 
the  negro's  conduct  ?  Has  he  told  two  lies  ?  If  he 
told  the  truth  once,  which  time  was  it  ?  To  you  or  to  us  ? 
You  are  convinced  that  you  talked  to  Morgan.  If  that 
negro  lied  to  us,  and  palmed  off  on  us  another  man  for  a 
purpose  —  he's  too  deep  for  me  !  What  motive  could  he 
have  ?  Even  from  your  standpoint,  what  motive  could  he 
have  ?  He  helped  Morgan  to  escape,  according  to  your 
theory  ;  how  does  handing  over  the  wrong  man  to  us 
help  Morgan  to  escape  ?  If  he  could  hand  any  man  over 
to  us,  why  didn't  he  hand  Morgan  over  to  us  ?  If  he  is 
really  attached  to  Morgan,  why  should  he  wish  to  cheat 
Morgan's  friends  ?  And  it  looks  as  if  Morgan  himself 
had  something  to  do  with  the  thing.  You  say  he  passed 
me,  and  I  say  I  know  nothing  about  it.  Damned  if  I  can 
see  daylight  in  the  rotten  mess  anywhere." 

"Well,  gentlemen,  I  am  compelled  to  bid  you  good 
morning,"  said  Dahlgren.  "  I  wish  I  could  relieve  this 
doubly  dark  mystery  ;  but  I  must  be  riding.  Tell  you 
what  I  wish  you'd  do  for  me,  Freeman,"  he  added,  smil- 
ing ;  "  drop  me  a  line  if  you  are  ever  able  to  make  heads 
and  tails  of  this  thing." 

"  I'll  do  it.  And  you  do  the  same  thing  by  me. 
There's  something  wrong  about  that  old  darky  as  sure  as 
shooting." 

"  What's  his  name  ?  "  asked  Dahlgren,  still  smiling. 

"  Squire,"  said  Freeman  and  Brock. 


SOLUTION 

"  Beckeners  without  their  host  must  recken  twice.1' 

—  HBTWOOD. 

Miss  WEST  had  consented  with  concealed  reluctance  to 
her  installation  as  Dr.  Lacy's  assistant,  and  was  devoting 
to  her  merciful  work  all  time  not  exacted  by  pressing 
household  affairs,  which,  indeed,  suffered  in  her  own  fears 
as  she  thought  of  Usher's  probable  dissatisfaction  when  he 
should  return  to  diminished  comfort.  Engrossed  as  he 
was,  for  the  most  part  undoubtedly  with  his  duty  to  his 
patient,  but  secondarily,  it  must  be  admitted,  with  his 
delicious  perplexity  concerning  Usher,  the  worthy  surgeon 
was  utterly  impervious  to  any  effect  from  the  girl's  con- 
dition of  enforced  service,  and  accepted  her  aid  without  a 
qualm,  and  even  without  the  consciousness  that  he  was 
enjoying  a  lack  of  the  irritableness  that  usually  afflicted 
his  temper  when  in  the  presence  of  a  woman. 

That  the  condition  of  his  patient  had  become  no  worse 
was  a  source  of  great  gratification,  and  Lacy  felt  no  doubt 
of  his  own  ability  to  bring  the  delicate  case  to  a  successful 
issue;  for  he  furnished  no  exception  to  the  rule  respecting 
the  union  of  genius  and  egotism  —  and  he  had  sense 

122 


SOLUTION  123 

enough  to  know  it ;  indeed,  his  self -pride  was  so  conscious 
that  he  reasoned  upon  his  own  powers  as  justly  as  upon 
another's,  and  felt  additional  pride  at  the  accurate  con- 
clusion which,  in  such  comparisons,  he  invariably  reached, 
that  he  had  the  right  to  be  proud. 

And  Morgan,  even  in  his  condition  of  utterly  passive 
consciousness,  felt  the  benefit  of  an  atmosphere  of  safety 
—  the  aura,  so  to  speak,  of  a  strong  character  with  intellect 
enough  to  throw  eccentricity  into  invisible  background  : 
men  are  to  be  judged  as  statesmen,  as  surgeons,  as  what 
they  profess  to  be,  according  to  their  purposes  and  achieve- 
ments, and  their  foibles  lessen  not,  but  rather  illustrate 
their  essential  quality.  The  wounded  soldier  instinctively 
knew  that  here  was  the  man  in  whose  hands  his  case  was 
safe,  and  saw  as  yet  no  flaw. 

"  Miss  West,"  said  the  surgeon,  "  to-night  I  shall  take 
first  watch." 

Jennie  would  have  preferred  a  different  order  of  things, 
as  Usher  was  to  be  looked  for  before  midnight,  and  she 
could  not  readily  sleep  while  expecting  him  ;  but  she  had 
had  first  watch  on  the  preceding  night,  and  she  submitted 
without  protest.  Turn  about  is  fair  play. 

"  Tap  on  my  door,  Doctor,  when  my  time  comes,"  she 
said,  not  entirely  void  of  hypocrisy  perhaps,  since  she  was 
almost  sure  she  would  not  need  to  be  waked.  Morgan 
was  already  sleeping  and  Lacy  was  sitting  near  the  west 
window  where  he  had  drawn  a  small  table  on  which  he 
had  laid  a  paper  ruled  into  parallel  columns.  He  held  a 
pencil  in  his  hand  ;  she  was  standing  over  him. 

He  nodded  vaguely,  whether  for  assent  or  concerning 


124  OLD  SQUIRE 

some  idea  in  regard  to  the  marks  which  he  was  beginning 
to  make  upon  the  paper,  she  could  not  tell,  for  he  seemed 
preoccupied.  She  went  out. 

Lacy  wrote  -f  over  his  first  column,  and  the  sign  for 
minus  over  the  second,  in  his  own  mind  the  symbols 
for  argument  pro  and  con.  Then  he  set  himself  to  think- 
ing profoundly,  so  deeply  that  he  had  no  knowledge  of  the 
lapse  of  time,  no  perception  that  the  light  in  the  west  was 
dying,  and  that  the  lines  on  his  paper  could  no  longer 
be  seen. 

At  length  he  nodded  emphatically,  and  made  a  move- 
ment to  write  ;  then  he  rose  and  went  to  a  shelf  and 
brought  his  candle,  and  placed  it  on  the  table,  and  lighted 
it,  his  body  carefully  intervening  between  the  flame  and 
Morgan's  face.  He  sat  again,  and  took  up  his  pencil,  but 
had  lost  his  idea. 

"  What  was  it  ?  Let  me  see  now  !  .  .  .  Oh,  yes,  I've 
got  it  again,"  and  he  proceeded  to  write  down  the  word 
Deserter  at  the  head  of  his  paper.  Then  he  began  to 
tabulate  his  reasons  for  and  against  a  certain  idea  ;  that  is 
to  say,  in  the  first  column  and  its  opposite  he  wrote  down 
why  and  why  not  Usher  West  should  be  considered  a 
deserter  from  the  Confederate  army.  Hours  went  by  and 
the  sagacious  doctor  intently  held  to  his  self-appointed 
task. 

There  was  bright  moonlight,  and  Jennie's  one  candle 
shone  upon  the  by-road  beneath  her  window.  She  did  not 
sleep.  Knowing  that  she  could  not,  she  worked  at  her 
sewing,  but  frequently  she  went  to  her  window,  which 
looked  north  over  the  rear  of  the  farm,  in  the  desire  to 


SOLUTION  125 

know  the  first  coming  of  Usher,  whom  she  would  warn  that 
the  surgeon  was  not  sleeping.  On  this  night  her  thought 
was  full  :  of  Charley  Armstrong,  gone  to  the  war,  and  of 
her  father  and  Usher  ;  but  more  persistently  than  these 
came  the  thought  of  the  Federal  soldier  lying  almost  dead 
in  less  than  forty  feet  of  her  chair.  It  was  very  natural 
to  think  of  him,  and  she  gave  no  self-reflection  in  her 
thought.  Thrown  upon  her  care  in  a  measure,  he  had 
become  for  the  time  one  of  her  household  ;  yet  not  once 
did  she  wonder  at  the  far  greater  prominence  that  the 
wounded  soldier  occupied  in  her  mind  over  the  doctor, 
he,  too,  in  some  sense  almost  equally  dependent. 

It  was  getting  near  twelve  ;  she  did  not  wish  Dr. 
Lacy  to  see  light  through  her  door  and  infer  that  she 
had  kept  awake,  so  she  put  out  her  candle  and  sat  by 
the  window,  looking  north  over  the  farm,  and  then  her 
thought  took  wider  scope.  Northward  it  went  into  Mary- 
land and  beyond,  where  she  knew  mighty  armies  were 
on  the  verge  of  bloody  battle,  each  contending  for  a 
great  principle.  She  was  no  logician,  and  her  home  ties 
were  strong  ;  yet  grave  doubt  was  in  her  mind  concerning 
the  ultimate  issue  of  the  struggle,  and  even  concerning  the 
justice  of  this  war  in  which  all  her  manly  young  friends 
had  taken  part,  and  she  heartily  wished  it  to  cease.  She  had 
seenmourning  in  families  roundabout — dead  brought  home 
—  and  knew  of  more  dead  that  could  not  be  brought,  but 
had  been  covered  with  a  crust  of  earth  in  long  rows  wherein 
recognition  of  individuals  was  forever  lost ;  and  here  in 
her  own  house  was  now  this  soldier  from  the  enemy's 
ranks  ;  perhaps  he,  too,  would  die,  —  this  man  with  the 


128  OLD  SQUIRE 

pathetic  eyes  which  seemed  to  look  beseechingly  upon  her 
even  here  in  the  dark. 

A  sharp  click  noted  five  minutes  till  midnight ;  hardly 
had  the  sound  ended ;  it  seemed  to  merge  into  another 
click,  but  which  she  knew  came  from  far  —  the  ring  of 
metal  upon  stone.  She  rose  at  once  and  went  to  the  back 
door  ;  there  she  listened  intently,  and  heard  again  the 
sound,  clearer  and  repeated.  She  went  out  that  she 
might  meet  her  brother  before  he  came  into  the  house. 
The  clock  struck  twelve,  but  she  did  not  hear  it. 

Dr.  Lacy  had  pursued  his  lines  of  reasoning,  and  had 
reached  the  conclusion  that  Usher  West's  reluctance  to 
speak  openly  could  be  accounted  for  upon  the  theory  of 
his  being  a  deserter,  and  upon  no  other  ;  therefore,  Usher 
West  was  a  deserter  ;  and  the  good  doctor,  while  it  must 
be  confessed  that  the  young  man  suffered  loss  of  dignity 
by  the  involuntary  transformation,  chuckled  over  the  re- 
sult of  his  solution,  feeling  assured  that  his  own  wish  to 
avoid  armed  Confederates  was  no  stronger  than  that  of 
the  Wests. 

Even  the  stroke  of  twelve  had  not  roused  the  doctor 
from  his  revery  consequent  upon  gratulation  that  his 
logic  had  found  result  at  once  accurate  and  wholesome. 
He  still  sat  before  his  table,  the  light  placed  directly 
between  his  face  and  the  small  open  window  which  looked 
west  upon  the  walk  leading  round  the  house.  At  this 
moment  Jennie  had  reached  the  position  where  she  would 
wait  for  Usher,  a  hundred  feet  directly  in  rear  of  the  back 
entrance  to  the  dwelling. 

The  sound  of  a  horse's  hoofs  continued  to  come,  and 


SOLUTION  127 

soon  the  young  girl  could  see  a  dark  spot  in  the  moon- 
light, enlarging  ;  and  then  she  was  almost  overcome  with 
terror  as  she  thought  that  it  must  now  be  past  the  time 
for  her  to  relieve  Dr.  Lacy.  She  had  forgotten  to  lock 
her  door,  yet  had  pulled  it  almost  shut,  and  suspense 
became  acute  in  wondering  what  the  surgeon  would  do. 
He  would  tap  at  her  door  ;  there  could  be  no  response  ; 
then  he  would  tap  harder.  For  a  moment  she  was  divided 
in  mind  ;  ought  she  not  to  return  at  once  ?  But  the 
horseman  was  already  near,  and  she  felt  that  whatever 
mistake  had  been  made  could  not  now  be  corrected.  She 
waited  for  Usher  ;  Lacy  must  not  be  allowed  to  hear  her 
brother  and  suspect  the  truth  concerning  the  nature  of  his 
service. 

The  horseman  kept  coming  —  coming,  but  only  for  a 
few  yards  more.  The  girl  was  amazed  to  see  him  turn  and 
ride  south  on  the  walk  that  led  by  Lacy's  window.  What 
could  it  mean  ?  Had  Usher  forgotten  that  enemies  were 
in  the  house?  No,  that  could  not  explain,  —  even  if  he 
had  forgotten,  he  would  put  his  horse  in  the  stable  —  no 
need  to  ride  round  the  house,  —  yet,  after  all,  perhaps  he 
had  thought  best  to  look  everywhere  about  him  before 
coming  in. 

The  horseman  had  disappeared,  the  northwest  corner 
of  the  dwelling  shutting  him  out  of  her  vision,  and  the 
sounds  of  the  hoofs  had  ceased,  making  her  believe  that 
Usher  had  halted  on  seeing  the  light  of  Lacy's  candle. 
And  at  the  next  moment  she  heard  a  voice  that  she  knew 
was  neither  the  doctor's  nor  her  brother's,  and  turned  to 
flee  into  the  house ;  but  stood  still  yet,  for  she  now  heard 


128  OLD  SQUIRE 

the  rapid  gallop  of  another  horse,  coming  upon  the  north 
road. 

Lacy  had  been  suddenly  confronted  by  a  bearded  face 
peering  at  him  through  the  window. 

"  Say,  old  man,"  said  a  rude  voice,  but  in  friendly 
tones,  "  time's  come  for  you  to  git.  Been  sent  to  warn 

you." 

The  candle  was  exactly  between  the  two  faces  ;  neither 
man  could  clearly  see  the  other.  The  visitor  was  leaning 
on  the  window-sill,  and  Lacy  could  make  out  a  bridle 
stretching  from  one  hand. 

The  doctor  doubted  that  he  had  heard  aright ;  he  had 
feared  a  flaw  in  his  reasoning,  and,  distrusting  his  former 
conclusion,  had  been  plunged  deeply  into  new  thought. 

The  man  repeated  :  "  Jig's  up.  Git  ready.  What's  the 
matter,  Ush,  that  you  can't  speak  ?  Wake  up,  and  be  dam 
quick  about  it." 

Lacy  heard  distinctly  ;  he  had  recovered  from  both 
abstraction  and  surprise  ;  he  knew  that  the  man,  accus- 
tomed to  darkness,  and  now  with  his  eyes  suffering  from 
the  sudden  glare  of  the  candle  so  near  them,  thought  he 
was  speaking  to  Usher  ;  this  room,  devoted  to  mercy,  was 
ordinarily  occupied  by  Usher  ;  the  man  knew  this,  and 
had  come  to  Usher's  window  to  warn  him  that  he  was  not 
safe — a  conclusion  almost  correct,  and  one  which  rooted 
and  grounded  the  doctor,  more  than  all  his  previous  depth 
of  logic,  in  the  certainty  that  West  was  a  deserter. 

Not  ten  seconds  had  passed  between  the  visitor's  two 
utterances.  Lacy  felt  that  he  must  say  something,  and 
knew  not  what  best  to  say  ;  moreover,  he  feared  that 


SOLUTION  129 

his  voice  would  at  once  disclose  the  fact  that  he  was  of 
Northern  speech  ;  yet  he  must  speak,  and  he  opened  his 
lips  at  a  venture,  discreetly  keeping  his  face  directly 
behind  the  candle. 

At  this  moment  the  man  turned  his  head  toward  the 
north,  and  at  the  next  withdrew,  saying  in  a  hoarse 
whisper  that  betrayed  discomposure  :  "  Hurry  up  ;  I  can't 
stay  here  in  this  light — somebody's  a-comin'.  I'll  wait 
for  you  down  the  hill." 

At  once  Lacy  blew  out  the  light.  Then  he  rose  and 
stood  still,  not  venturing  to  step  in  any  direction.  He 
could  hear  the  sounds  of  a  horse  led  away,  and  from 
farther  the  sound  of  galloping,  and  he  feared  lest  the 
house  should  be  searched  by  Confederates  coming  to 
seize  Usher  West  .  .  .  coming  for  that  purpose,  and 
accomplishing  more. 

But  not  long  was  he  left  in  this  fear  ;  the  galloping 
ceased,  and  voices  reached  him  :  one  the  voice  of  his 
visitor,  loud  enough  ;  the  other,  a  low  voice,  some  of  its 
words  almost  undistinguishable,  yet  by  the  responses  of 
the  louder  he  knew  it  was  Usher's. 

"  Who's  that  in  your  room  ?  " 

"  Hm  —  hm  —  loud;  hm  —  hm." 

"  Oh  .  .  .  Major  .  .  .  are  you  ready  ?  " 

"  Hm  —  hour  —  hm  —  wait  ?  " 

"No— hm  — hm." 

"Hm  —  too  loud." 

For  a  short  minute  the  doctor  heard  whispering ;  then 
everything  became  silent  again,  and  Lacy  stood  motionless 
for  a  long  time,  while  young  West  slipped  into  the  house 


130  OLD  SQUIRE 

and  got  his  weapons  and  slipped  out  again,  to  ride  with 
Tom  Baxter  to  the  rendezvous  of  Mosby's  men,  and  then 
northward  upon  a  raid  into  the  Federal  lines. 

At  length  the  doctor  heard  a  light  tap  on  his  door. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Isn't  it  time,  Doctor  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  must  be  past  time."  He  lighted  the  candle, 
and  looked  at  his  watch.  "Past  one  o'clock.  Is  it 
possible  ?  " 

"I've  been  expecting  to  hear  you  come  for  the  last 
half-hour,"  said  Jennie. 


CHAPTER  XI 

APART 

"  Endurance  is  the  crowning  quality, 
And  patience  all  the  passion  of  great  hearts. " 

—  LOWKLL. 

SQUIRE'S  horse  could  do  but  little  more.  The  old  man 
was  alone  in  the  land  of  the  stranger,  and  knew  not  how 
to  overtake  his  friends,  yet  he  must  try  ;  though  the  case 
would  have  been  hopeless  for  a  soldier,  for  a  slave  it  was 
only  difficult. 

"  I  dunno  w'ich  a-way  dey's  a-gwine  to  go,"  he  mum- 
bled ;  "  ef  I  knowed  w'ich  a-way  dey  wus  a-gwine  to  go, 
an'  w'ich  a-way  dey's  a-gwine  to  come  back  ag'in,  den  I 
mought  cut  acrawst  an'  git  ahaid  of  'em  .  .  .  but  I  dunno 
w'ich  a-way  dey's  a-gwine  to  go.  Wen  we  come  oveh 
heah  oncet  befo'e,  we  crawssed  away  up  high  an'  den  we 
crawssed  back  ag'in  into  ole  Fihginny  away  down  low, 
an'  I  'spec'  we's  a-gwine  to  do  de  same  way  dis  time  .  .  . 
but  den  we  didn't  crawssed  away  up  high  dis  time.  Dis 
dam  hoss  is  done  mint  me,  feh  sho." 

The  beast  had  sunk  down  on  the  road  and  now 
refused  to  budge.  Squire  took  off  the  trappings,  thrust 
his  head  through  the  bridle,  slung  the  saddle  upon  his 
shoulders,  and  pushed  on.  He  must  outmarch  Stuart's 
cavalry,  already  many  miles  ahead.  But  his  load  was  heavy, 

131 


132  OLD  SQUIRE 

and  the  heat  was  great.  Before  he  had  made  half  a  mile, 
seeing  that  he  was  only  breaking  himself  down,  he  went 
a  little  distance  into  the  wood  and  held  a  consultation. 

"  De  ain't  noth'n'  but  one  thing  dat  ole  Squiah  kin  do 
now.  He  ain't  got  to  keep  awn  up  dis  road,  an'  he  ain't 
got  to  try  to  ketch  up  wid  'em  no  mo'e ;  but  he  dess  got  to 
cut  acrawst  an'  haid  'em  awff,  leastways  ef  he  can't  fine 
anotheh  hoss  .  .  .  but  w'ich  a-way  to  go,  dat  I  dunno, 
dam  'f  I  do.  De  good  book  hit  say  look  not,  sinneh,  to 
de  right  han'  road,  noh  to  de  lef  han'  road,  but  keep 
awn  a-movin'  awn  de  straight  an'  nahrow  paf;  but  I 
ain't  seed  no  nahrow  paf;  an'  I  dess  obleeged  to  do 
some'h'm.  I's  not  a-gwine  to  go  back  ag'in ;  now  I 
let  shu  know  dat." 

Totally  ignorant  in  regard  to  his  immediate  surround- 
ings, as  well  as  to  the  larger  geography  of  this  and  every 
other  region,  the  negro  was  at  an  utter  loss  for  a  clew  to 
help  his  decision,  and  he  remained  long  as  he  was,  unwill- 
ing to  take  any  step  that  might  be  for  the  worse.  But  at 
length  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  I  knows  dess  w'at  /'«  a-gwine  to  do.  I's  dess  a-gwine 
to  do  lak  I  use  to  do  w'en  I  was  sont  to  hunt  de  cows  : 
dat's  w'at  J1*  a-gwine  to  do.  Now,  you  heah  me  ?  " 

He  held  his  left  palm,  bowl-like,  before  him,  and  spat 
in  it ;  then  the  broad  right  forefinger  descended  violently 
upon  the  artificial  lakelet,  he  intently  watching  for  the 
direction  in  which  the  smitten  waters  would  fly. 

At  once  he  stooped,  picked  up  the  bridle  only,  and 
began  to  walk  rapidly  toward  the  northwest. 


APART  133 

A  mile  north  of  the  spot  where  he  had  encountered 
the  Federal  captain,  Morgan  led  his  friends  again  into  the 
highroad.  Seiicy  was  directed  to  ride  a  furlong  in  the 
advance,  for  a  repetition  of  past  good  luck  could  not  be 
hoped  for  ;  no  more  squads  of  Yankees  must  be  met. 
The  speed  was  not  pressed,  for  all  the  horses  were  show- 
ing signs  of  weakness  ;  they  must  be  saved  for  the  possi- 
bility of  a  race  ;  besides,  they  still  had  a  little  hope  that 
Squire  would  overtake  them. 

Sency  saw  that  many  wheels  had  churned  the  crumpled 
dust  left  by  the  cavalry  ;  many  tracks,  but  not  the  broad 
tracks  of  cannon.  Stuart  had  begun  his  march  without 
encumbrance  of  wagons — whence  these  parallel  lines  that 
had  obliterated  so  many  hoof  prints  ?  Sency  rode  on, 
looking  sharply  ahead,  but  thinking  of  the  tracks.  "  I'm 
afraid  of  those  wagons,"  thought  George  ;  "  if  Stuart  has 
captured  them,  he  ought  to  burn  them.  However,  if  he 
doesn't  he  will  play  into  our  hands,  for  we'll  soon  over- 
take those  same  wagons ;  but  he  will  play  into  the 
Yankees'  hands,  too.  I  believe  Stuart  has  captured  a 
wagon  train,  and  he'll  hang  to  it  like  grim  death  to  a 
dead  nigger." 

Sency  met  civilians,  whom  he  passed  without  conversa- 
tion. Some  of  them  looked  at  him  curiously. 

Back  at  the  rear  Morgan  had  observed  the  tracks. 

"  See  these  wagon  tracks,  Charley  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;   what  do  you  reckon  made  'em  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  get  down  and  see  if  I  can  tell  which  way 
they  went." 

But  with  all  his  experience  Morgan  was  unable  to  deter- 


134  OLD  SQUIRE 

mine,  and  lie  remounted  and  rode  on.  There  were  many 
small  hoof  prints,  —  those  of  mules,  no  doubt,  pointing 
north,  and  a  few  pointing  south ;  but  in  the  road,  between 
the  ruts  and  outside,  the  dust  had  been  torn  here  and 
compacted  there,  and  so  trodden  everywhere  —  one  hoof 
print  on  top  of  another — that  for  long  he  could  not 
decide  ;  but  at  length  a  small  brook  was  crossed,  and  he 
cried :  "  There,  Joe  !  See  that  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I'm  a-thinkin'  them  waggins  is  gone  on  ahead." 

"  Beyond  a  doubt  we're  following  them ;  the  wheels 
have  slung  the  wet  mud  all  about  over  here." 

Civilians  were  met ;  farmers  were  seen  at  work,  some 
of  them  pausing  to  look.  One  man  shouted  from  his 
yard  gate  :  "  Better  be  keerful !  Whole  gang  o'  rebs 
went  by  here  last  night !  They're  not  fur  ahead  of 
you  I  " 

"  How  do  you  know  they're  not  far  ? "  shouted  the 
sergeant  in  return. 

"'Cause  they're  goin'  slow." 

"  None  of  our  men  up  the  road  ?  " 

"  Mighty  few.      One  company  rid  by  an  hour  ago." 

"  Riding  fast  ?  " 

"In  a  trot." 

"  What  made  all  these  wagon  tracks  ?  " 

"  Rebs  got  a  whole  raft  of  our  wagons  way  down  below. 
They  took  'em  by  here  before  day." 

And  now  Morgan,  as  well  as  Sency,  knew  that  Stuart's 
column  could  be  overtaken,  because  its  speed  must  not  be 
greater  than  that  of  the  wagons  ;  all  that  was  needed  was 
to  shun  the  company  of  Federal  cavalry  hanging  on 


APART  135 

Stuart's  rear.  The  sergeant  rode  forward  rapidly  and 
joined  Sency. 

"There's  a  company  of  Yankee  cavalry  ahead,  George." 

"  How  did  you  learn  that  ?  " 

"  A  man  told  me  they  passed  his  house  an  hour  ago." 

"  A  mighty  little  company,  then,"  says  George.  "  Look 
how  few  tracks  have  broken  into  the  ruts  —  about  one  in 
every  ten  yards.  That  man  has  no  idea  how  to  count 
cavalry  ;  he  would  think  a  company  was  a  regiment." 

"  See  these  wagon  tracks  ?  " 

"  Been  lookin'  at  'em." 

"Stuart  has  taken  a  wagon  train,  and  has  it  in  tow. 
All  we  have  to  do  is  to  take  care  of  ourselves  ;  we  have 
plenty  of  time." 

"  Yes,  I  see.  Wonder  what  on  earth  the  general  means 
by  holding  on  to  those  wagons  ;  better  burn  'em,  and 
'git  furder '  as  the  boys  say." 

"  Not  in  him  as  long  as  he  sees  a  chance  to  bring  'em  in." 

The  two  were  riding  on  slowly.  "  There  now,  see 
that !  "  said  George. 

"  Yes,  but  what  are  they  ?  " 

They  had  halted,  and  Sency  was  dismounting.  He  had 
pointed  to  the  ground,  where  Morgan  could  see  that  the 
wheel  tracks  were  now  imprinted  with  a  greater  number 
of  hoofs,  the  ruts  broken  into  at  every  foot. 

Sency  walked,  bending  over,  leading  his  horse. 

"  Our  men  !  "  he  exclaimed,  and  began  to  mount. 
"  Yes,"  he  continued,  "  fully  a  fourth  of  'em  are  barefoot. 
The  general  has  put  a  rear-guard  behind  the  wagons. 
Wonder  what  regiment  it  is." 


136  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  We  ought  to  run  against  that  squad  of  Yankees  soon," 
said  Morgan ;  "  they're  not  strong  enough  to  follow  our 
folks  very  closely.  Let's  halt  and  wait  for  Charley  and 
Joe." 

The  four  held  a  council.  Armstrong  was  for  going 
dead  ahead  and  rapidly,  in  order  to  end  the  thing  ;  he 
had  no  fear  that  Squire  wouldn't  make  his  way.  Joe  left 
everything  to  Morgan.  Sency  advised  prudence  ;  it  was 
evident,  he  maintained,  that  haste  was  not  the  thing 
needed  now  ;  the  only  thing  to  fear  was  the  cavalry  fol- 
lowing Stuart's  rear  —  following  only  to  observe.  All  that 
Morgan  had  to  do  was  to  approach  the  squad  of  observa- 
tion carefully,  then  flank  'em,  and  reach  Stuart ;  better 
go  slow  and  see  'em  without  being  seen;  then  the  rest 
would  be  easy. 

Morgan  decided  in  favour  of  Sency's  policy,  and  the 
party  moved  on,  George  again  in  the  lead. 

"  Dan,"  says  Joe,  "  I'm  a-thinkin'  that  old  Squire  must 
ha'  fell  in  with  that  Yankee  cap'm  you  been  a-talkin' 
about." 

"  Let  .Squire  alone  for  that,"  replied  Armstrong  ;  "  I'll 
pit  him  single  against  any  of  'em,  big  or  little.  The  man 
that  gets  the  best  of  Squire,  has  got  to  get  up  mighty 
soon  in  the  mornin'." 

"  They'll  not  be  likely  to  trouble  him  much,"  said  Mor- 
gan. "  I  don't  think  they'd  be  hard  on  him,  even  if  he 
should  tell  where  he  belongs.  But  he  may  be  delayed  in 
getting  through." 

"  I'll  bet  he  gets  to  Lee's  army  before  Stuart  does," 
says  Armstrong.  "Hello!  hear  that?  Stand  by  Sency 


APART  137 

now,  boys,"  as  two  or  three  shots  were  heard  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  at  the  front,  and  then  a  scattering  volley. 

The  three  broke  into  a  gallop  forward,  and,  at  the  next 
turn  of  the  road,  found  Sency  halted  by  its  side  in  the 
bushes,  intently  watching  and  listening  ;  and  now  every 
man  could  hear  a  far  clatter  of  approaching  hoofs  from  the 
north. 

"  Hide  and  let  'em  pass,"  ordered  the  sergeant,  and 
the  group  rode  away  into  the  wood. 

Morgan  dismounted  and  went  back  to  watch  the  road. 
The  sound  of  hoofs  was  distinct,  and  increasing  —  com- 
ing, and  soon  he  saw  a  mournful  group  on  the  road  before 
him.  Three  Federals  were  riding  in  the  front  at  a  slow 
walk.  A  centre  group  was  composed  of  two  living  men 
and  two  dead,  the  bodies  lying  across  the  horses  which 
had  doubtless  been  ridden  by  the  men  recently  slain.  A 
group  of  four  brought  up  the  rear  —  all  moving  slowly,  all 
with  heads  bent  down  as  though  repenting  the  crime  of 
rashness. 

No  danger  was  to  be  feared  from  these  men.  Without 
waiting  until  they  had  disappeared,  the  sergeant  returned 
to  his  comrades  ;  they  mounted  and  rode  at  an  angle  into 
the  highway,  and  then  north,  and  when  they  had  reached 
the  top  of  the  next  hill  Stuart's  rear  was  in  sight,  with  no 
enemy  between. 

The  column  was  strung  along  the  road  for  miles.  At 
five  o'clock  Stuart,  at  its  head,  was  nearing  Westminster, 
Dan  Morgan  having  reached  its  rear  just  north  of  the 
railroad  at  two.  The  wagon  train  separated  advance  and 
rear  by  almost  three  miles,  while  the  troops  themselves 


138  OLD  SQUIRE 

took  up  as  great  a  stretch  of  the  road.  The  little  squad 
was  under  protection,  but  had  far  yet  to  go,  and  with 
tired  horses,  before  they  could  join  their  own  regiment. 
Yet  the  horses  of  all  the  troops  were  in  no  better  condi- 
tion than  Morgan's,  for  Stuart  had  not  brought  forage, 
and  ever  since  the  25th,  the  day  of  his  start  from  Salem, 
his  animals  had  been  given  but  little  nourishment  —  the 
column  halting  early  of  afternoons  to  graze  and  to  collect 
what  little  forage  could  be  found  on  the  devastated  farms 
of  Prince  William  and  Fairfax.  But  on  the  wrong  side 
of  Morgan's  account  was  the  fact  that  he  had  on  this  day 
already  ridden  fifteen  miles  more  than  the  column  had 
marched,  and  his  own  beasts  were  no  more  vigorous  than 
theirs  whose  speed  he  desired  to  outstrip. 

Sency  dismounted.     "  What  you  goin'  to  do  ?  "  asked 
Joe. 

"  I'm  going  to  foot  it.  My  horse'll  give  out  if  I  don't." 
George  had  not  originated ;  many  of  the  worst  mounted 
of  the  troopers  were  already  afoot  and  leading  their 
horses,  for  the  march  was  a  slow  walk,  easy  for  a  foot- 
man to  equal.  Sency's  companions  followed  his  example 
and  the  four  went  forward,  slowly  gaining  distance  on  the 
moving  column  which  was  compelled  to  preserve  its  march- 
ing ranks.  Rests  were  frequent ;  the  Confederate  cavalry 
now  barely  averaged  two  miles  to  the  hour.  At  one  of 
these  rests,  seeing  that  a  great  gain  had  been  made,  Sency 
proposed  to  take  time  —  to  hunt  food  —  to  give  the  ani- 
mals one  good  rest,  and  then  push  on.  He  had  some 
greenbacks,  he  said,  and  the  Maryland  farmers  would  sell 
them  hay,  oats,  corn,  anything  ...  if  that  whole  regi- 


APART  139 

ment  which  they  had  passed  were  to  halt  and  demand  it, 
they  could  find  feed  enough  within  a  mile.  Morgan  con- 
sented, and  Sency  and  Joe  went  off  and  returned  loaded 
with  oats  and  dry  forage,  just  what  the  grass-fed  horses 
had  needed. 

At  dark,  Morgan's  men  reached  Fitz  Lee's  brigade  at 
Westminster,  where  but  few  hours  previously  the  Fourth 
Virginia  had  encountered  the  First  Delaware  under  Major 
Knight,  who  lost  sixty-seven  out  of  ninety-five  men  in 
a  contest  brave  but  unwise.  At  Westminster  the  tired 
Confederates  found  ample  supplies  for  horses  and  men, 
and  rested  until  the  column  was  well  closed.  Then  in 
the  darkness  the  march  was  continued  six  miles  farther 
to  Union  Mills,  where  a  halt  was  called  for  the  remainder 
of  the  night. 

Stuart  learned  that  a  strong  Federal  force  of  cavalry 
was  at  Littlestown,  blocking  the  road  to  Gettysburg. 
On  the  morning  of  the  30th  the  Confederates  marched  on 
Hanover,  ten  miles  north,  making  for  York,  where  Stuart 
hoped  to  find  a  division  of  Lee's  army ;  but  Kilpatrick,  at 
Littlestown,  had  been  only  seven  miles  from  Hanover, 
and  when  the  Confederates  came  in  sight  of  Hanover  they 
saw  that  it  was  held  by  their  enemies. 

The  Confederate  artillery  opened  on  Hanover;  the 
Second  North  Carolina  cavalry  charged  down  Frederick 
Street,  momentarily  causing  confusion,  but  Farnsworth 
rallied  his  brigade  and  the  tide  turned ;  the  Confederates 
were  swept  back,  and  Stuart  was  in  great  personal  dan- 
ger, saving  himself  by  an  extraordinary  leap  of  his  horse. 
The  Confederates  withdrew  to  the  hills  southeast  of  the 


140  OLD  SQUIRE 

town,   and    seemed   to   make    preparations   for   vigorous 
battle. 

Fitz  Lee's  brigade,  near  the  head  of  which  rode  Morgan 
and  his  friends,  was  ordered  to  file  to  the  right  and  make 
for  Jefferson  —  eight  miles  east,  the  wagon  train  following. 
Stuart  held  the  remainder  of  his  command  in  open  view 
of  Kilpatrick  until  nightfall ;  then  he  followed  Lee.  All 
through  the  night  the  march  continued  :  first  to  Jefferson  ; 
thence  north  to  Dover,  fifteen  miles,  where  in  the  early  morn- 
ing hours  a  halt  was  called  to  allow  the  column  to  close  up. 

It  was  now  July  1,  the  opening  day  of  the  great  battle. 
A.  P.  Hill  was  marching  from  Cashtown  eastward  upon 
Gettysburg;  Ewell  was  marching  from  Carlisle  south- 
ward ;  Longstreet  was  at  Chambersburg,  twenty-four 
miles  west  of  Gettysburg.  At  Hanover,  Stuart  had  been 
only  eighteen  miles  east  from  Gettysburg,  but  ignorance 
of  the  situation  had  led  him  to  march  a  whole  day  and 
night  —  east,  north,  and  northwest  —  to  find  himself  at 
Carlisle,  twenty-five  miles  north  of  the  battle. 

And  when  Carlisle  was  approached,  instead  of  finding 
it  occupied  by  his  friends,  Stuart  learned  that  it  was  held 
by  Federal  infantry.  Surrender  of  the  town  was  de- 
manded and  refused,  and  Stuart  prepared  for  action. 
His  artillery  had  begun  to  throw  shells  when  mounted 
officers  from  Lee  rode  up,  bringing  orders  for  the  cavalry 
to  march  at  once  to  Gettysburg. 

****### 

Armstrong  had  predicted  that  Squire  would  make  his 
way  to  Lee's  army  before  Stuart  had  reached  that  pro- 
tection. Certainly  Armstrong's  words  had  been  dictated 


GETTYSBURG  CAMPAIGN 


142  OLD  SQUIRE 

by  the  wish  rather  than  the  assurance,  for  no  Confederate 
knew  the  respective  difficulties.  At  the  moment  of 
Squire's  deflection  to  the  northwest  all  the  Federal  army, 
divided  into  many  detachments,  lay  between  him  and 
Gettysburg,  the  focal  point  afterward  determined  for  the 
concentration  of  Federals  and  Confederates.  Yet  the 
Federal  detachments  were  moving  northwardly,  and 
Squire's  course,  decided  by  augury,  could  not  possibly 
have  been  better  chosen :  northwest  was  not  a  direct 
course  to  Lee's  army  when  it  should  have  reached  Gettys- 
burg ;  but  it  was  the  best  course  for  avoiding  the  Fed- 
erals marching  northward. 

Old  Squire  trudged  along,  bridle  in  hand.  His  way 
at  first  was  through  open  woods,  descending  a  hill.  He 
sought  no  public  road  —  his  token  was  the  northwest, 
and  northwest  he  would  go.  He  climbed  fences,  and 
went  around  fields,  and  avoided  farm-houses  ;  he  waded 
streams,  and  plunged  through  small  swamps,  and  kept 
on,  tired  and  hungry,  until,  at  sunset,  he  found  himself 
near  a  shallow  river  beyond  which  he  could  see  a  railroad 
running  across  his  course,  with  a  range  of  hills  at  the 
westward  stretching  northeast,  for  all  the  world  like  his 
own  Bull  Run  Mountains. 

He  waited  until  darkness  came  ;  then  he  waded  the 
river  and  crossed  the  railroad  ;  behind  him  an  almost  full 
moon  broke  through  the  clouds,  and  gave  him  light ;  he 
kept  on  across  the  hills  until  in  his  front  he  saw  a  wide 
road  ;  then  he  sat  down. 

At  this  time  Squire  was  almost  due  south  from  Gettys- 
burg twenty-five  miles. 


APART  143 

The  negro  was  resting  in  the  woods,  afraid  to  cross 
the  highroad,  for  it  was  wide  and  straight  for  a  long 
distance,  and  the  moon  gave  a  great  light.  He  was  very 
hungry. 

What  with  hunger  and  weariness,  having  had  no  rest 
for  thirty-six  hours,  old  Squire  went  to  sleep. 

And  while  the  slave  lay  there  in  the  woods,  Hancock's 
corps  began  to  march  by  within  a  stone's  throw  of  his 
hiding-place. 


CHAPTER  XII 

AWAITING  THE   VERDICT 

"  Of  all  the  paths  that  lead  to  love 
Pity's  the  straightest." 

—  BEAUMONT  AND  FLETCHER. 

SURGEON  LACY  believed  that  the  rest  of  a  day  and  two 
nights,  and  especially  the  conservative  effect  of  the  bags 
of  pounded  ice  which  with  judicious  intermissions  had 
been  kept  about  his  patient's  wound,  justified  him  in 
searching  for  the  ball  which  he  doubted  not  was  some- 
where near  the  spine.  Possibly  the  doctor  felt  that  he 
was  taking  a  perilous  chance,  but  by  neither  word  nor 
look  did  he  betray  nervousness  or  fear. 

Though  Miss  West  had  known  almost  from  the  first 
that  the  wounded  man  was  Andrew  Morgan,  brother  of 
Daniel,  yet  at  sight  of  the  pale  face  she  had  been  shocked 
greatly  by  the  wonderful  resemblance,  which  for  all  time 
thereafter  made  her  feel  that  something  more  than  mere 
resemblance  was  here  —  something  that  approached  iden- 
tity in  form,  in  feature,  and  in  mind.  While  not  allowing 
herself  to  remain  in  the  sufferer's  room,  she  nevertheless 
gave  much  help  to  the  surgeon,  who  demanded  without 
hesitation  anything  he  conceived  to  be  helpful.  Jennie 
prepared  strips  for  bandages,  hunted  for  lost  pins  every- 

144 


AWAITING  THE  VERDICT  145 

where,  —  pins  were  rare  in  the  Confederacy,  —  brought 
fresh  water,  pounded  the  ice,  and  relieved  the  surgeon 
of  so  much  drudgery  that  he  was  allowed  to  give  almost 
undivided  attention  to  his  critical  case. 

When  came  the  supreme  moment  of  probing  for  the 
ball,  Jennie  waited  in  the  passage,  ready  to  lend  any  aid 
possible  if  she  should  be  called  on  ;  but  so  well  had  she 
obeyed  the  doctor's  injunctions  that  nothing,  which  under 
the  conditions  could  be  supplied,  was  lacking  ;  she  kept 
her  place  in  the  hall,  almost  breathless,  suffering  a  sus- 
pense which  her  own  conscious  acknowledgment  of  its 
cruelty  made  none  the  less  intolerable.  In  the  chamber 
she  could  hear  footsteps  —  her  father's  and  the  surgeon's, 
as  first  one  and  then  the  other  moved  about  in  prepara- 
tion for  the  great  trial,  and  then,  after  some  minutes 
which  seemed  innumerable,  the  room  became  very  silent, 
and  she  knew  that  his  life  on  whom  all  her  hopes  of  joy 
now  hung  was  being  put  into  the  scales  of  time  against 
eternity.  She  sat  there,  thinking  no  thought  of  herself, 
but  all  of  him  whom  she  had  so  suddenly  loved.  Sud- 
denly ?  Yes,  but  if  she  had  been  at  that  moment  egoistic 
enough  to  analyze  her  feeling  and  its  causes,  she  would 
have  known  that  this  love  of  hers  had  its  origin  in  the 
very  helplessness  of  the  being  thrown  upon  her  care,  for 
her  love  was  more  maternal  than  passionate.  He  was  her 
possession,  she  not  his,  and  there  could  be  no  claimant 
against  her  claims  —  no  rival  but  death.  Death  !  Yes, 
death  was  even  now  fighting  for  its  prize,  and  Jennie's 
face  was  very  pale  and  sad,  and  her  heart  had  almost 
ceased  to  beat.  Yet  she  sat  patiently,  still  as  marble, 


146  OLD   SQUIRE 

feeling  incapable  of  attempting  such  devices  as  are  usu- 
ally employed  for  the  illusive  abatement  of  suspense  ; 
her  suffering  was  precious  to  her,  in  that  it  was  for  him  : 
let  all  the  woe,  all  the  pain,  all  the  death  fall  upon  her, 
and  all  the  joy  go  with  him  ;  then  could  she  be  happier 
than  he.  In  a  maiden's  first  passion  there  is  the  great 
piety  of  sacrifice  ;  in  all  following  substitutes  there  is  a 
greater  personal  demand  for  more  than  reciprocation. 
With  Virginia  West  there  was  no  wish  but  for  the  life 
and  weal  of  him  she  now  first  loved. 

The  silence  in  the  room  was  broken,  and  she  stood.  At 
each  successive  minim  of  time,  she  thought  to  see  the 
door  opened  and  her  fate  shown  in  the  surgeon's  eye  and 
face.  But  the  door  remained  closed,  though  moving  feet 
could  still  be  heard.  Surely  something  must  be  wrong. 
Had  a  first  attempt  failed,  and  must  a  second  be  tried  ? 
Oh,  what  torture  to  her  love  !  She  continued  to  stand, 
breathless,  expectant,  hopeful,  despairing,  her  eyes  fixed 
on  the  door-knob  that  she  might  catch  the  first  motion 
of  its  turning.  Again  there  was  silence  within. 

There  come  periods  in  every  gentle  life  —  periods,  halts 
of  time  —  when  time  ceases  to  move.  The  dial  may  show 
shadows  changing,  the  sand  may  run  down  in  the  glass, 
the  blood  may  continue  to  pump  forth  and  back,  but  the 
objects  are  unreal  and  the  pumping  blood  is  no  longer 
an  experience  —  all  of  the  subjective  has  concentrated 
against  one  single  point  that  fixes  itself  immovable  and 
becomes  the  world.  So  now  to  Virginia  the  door-knob 
was  the  only  visible  thing,  diminishing  to  naught  all 
other  things ;  it  must  turn,  and  in  her  supreme  anxiety 


AWAITING   THE  VERDICT  H7 

and  fear  an  almost  uncontrollable  impulse  seized  her  to 
step  forward  and  do  the  turning,  for  each  second  stood 
in  the  way  of  the  next  and  prevented  its  coming. 

But  the  door-knob  turned.  How  long  was  it  in  turn- 
ing ?  From  the  first  movement,  which  the  intent  eye 
had  detected  by  the  varying  light  on  its  irregular  surface, 
until  she  could  see  beyond  the  opening  door,  there  had 
been  but  a  fraction  of  a  second ;  yet  long  enough  for  the 
girl  to  repeat  a  thousand  alternations  of  life  and  death 
—  death  and  life,  let  us  say,  for  now  her  eyes  lifted  to 
the  height  of  the  surgeon's  face  all  aglow  with  the  superb 
light  of  professional  achievement,  and  instantly  leaped  to 
the  left  a  foot,  and  fastened  upon  a  small  round  object 
which  Lacy  held  in  triumph  between  his  forefinger  and 
thumb. 

The  girl  fled  to  her  room  and  locked  it,  every  nerve 
a-tremble,  every  muscle  quivering  ;  then  she  sank  to  her 
knees  and  bathed  her  coverlet  with  tears  of  love  and 
thanksgiving. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

BARNEY 

"  When  I  was  at  home  I  was  in  a  better  place." 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

OLD  SQUIRE'S  sleep  was  untroubled  except  from  the 
pinchings  of  an  empty  stomach  that  brought  on  tantaliz- 
ing dreams  of  huge  corn-pones  and  big  flat  rashers.  When 
his  hunger  woke  him,  he  failed  for  a  little  while  to  know 
himself  and  his  condition  ;  but  cruel  reality  quickly  came 
and  prompted  exertion  difficult  to  determine  and  to  effect. 
His  Mahs  Chahley  was  far,  perhaps  in  a  more  deplorable 
case  than  his  own,  and  the  negro's  heart  sank  in  think- 
ing vaguely  of  the  unknown  difficulties  that  must  be  over- 
come before  they  might  meet ;  then  his  mind  went  to  ole 
Mahsta  and  Mistis,  and  to  Miss  Lucy,  and  to  Judy,  very  far 
away  in  the  Virginia  mountains,  safe  from  the  touch  of 
actual  war,  and  he  wished  that  he  was  with  them. 

Night  had  taken  away  fear  of  detection,  but  had  added 
to  the  terror  always  inspired  by  the  unknown.  Squire 
muttered  a  prayer  and  started  to  cross  the  highroad.  He 
would  get  on  its  western  side  and  keep  by  its  edge  in  the 
shadows  ;  for  though  by  the  stars  he  knew  that  the  road 
here  was  running  northerly,  if  not  toward  the  east  a  little, 

148 


BARNEY  149 

yet  he  would  bend  to  suit  it  until  it  deflected  too  far  from 
his  purposed  course.  The  moon  was  almost  overhead  ; 
in  the  open  road  there  would  be  no  shadow  to  hide  him. 
He  listened  .  .  .  was  there  not  a  sound  at  his  left  ?  He  lay 
flat,  with  ear  to  the  ground,  and  could  hear  many  noises 
mingling  into  a  confused  murmur  which  he  at  once  recog- 
nized as  the  composite  sound  made  by  a  marching  in- 
fantry column,  getting  nearer  and  nearer.  And  then  he 
was  torn  by  hope  and  fear  :  were  the  advancing  troops 
Federal,  or  were  they  Southern  ?  He  must  not  fly  and 
renounce  the  chance  for  protection,  nor  must  he  allow 
himself  to  be  stopped  by  a  column  of  the  enemy  interven- 
ing to  the  west  ;  he  ran  straight  across  the  road  and 
crouched  in  the  bushes. 

But  after  a  little  the  noises  ceased.  Perhaps  a  halt  had 
been  ordered  for  rest  ;  perhaps  the  troops  had  turned  off 
on  another  road  ;  perhaps  they  had  halted  for  the  night. 
Squire  had  sufficient  knowledge  of  relation  to  know  at 
once  that  there  were  two  chances  out  of  three  —  three  out 
of  four  if  he  had  thought  of  the  possibility  of  a  counter- 
march —  that  the  troops  would  not  on  this  night  pass  his 
present  place  of  hiding,  and  he  decided,  whether  wisely  or 
not,  that  his  next  step  must  be  to  learn  whether  they  were 
preparing  to  bivouac  ;  so  he  rose  and  stole  along  the  road- 
side southwestward,  but  in  less  than  a  hundred  yards  he 
reached  the  edge  of  the  wood  and  saw  a  broad  open  field 
before  him. 

He  hesitated,  considering  that  the  field  was  large 
enough  to  reach  the  point  from  which  the  sounds  had 
come,  and  even  while  he  considered  he  saw  a  little  point 


150  OLD  SQUIRE 

of  light  far  away,  which  was  extinguished  immediately; 
but  another,  and  another,  and  then  many,  and  he  knew 
that  a  great  body  of  soldiers  were  near  him,  in  the  act  of 
kindling  numerous  fires,  preparing,  before  they  should 
sleep,  to  satisfy  their  own  hunger,  and  increasing  his  own 
to  agony. 

Though  bivouac  fires  are  not  peculiar  to  friend  or 
enemy,  yet  Squire  was  almost  convinced  that  the  troops 
before  him  were  Federal.  In  the  South,  matches  were 
few  and  valuable  ;  he  knew  that  Southern  soldiers  were 
slow  in  making  bivouac  fires,  —  waiting  to  get  a  coal  or 
flame  from  their  fortunate  comrades,  —  while  iu  his  sight 
a  multitude  of  flames  had  started  almost  simultaneously. 
Yet  this  indication  was  not  conclusive,  and  Squire  waited  ; 
for  there  was  another  line  of  reasoning  which  would 
bring  him  to  an  entirely  contrary  opinion  :  he  knew  that 
Federal  soldiers  were  not  forced  to  do  so  much  cooking  as 
their  Southern  brethren  were  compelled  to  do,  the  Federal 
ration  of  bread  usually  being  hardtack,  and  the  Confed- 
erate, raw  flour.  In  the  light  of  a  moon  almost  round 
there  would  be  little  need  of  other  light  for  choosing 
places  and  spreading  blankets,  and  the  weather  was  warm ; 
but  then,  thought  the  slave,  many  would  want  to  boil 
coffee  ;  he  would  wait  and  would  be  prudent  —  it  takes 
no  great  fire  to  boil  a  cup  of  water. 

A  little  at  his  right  he  saw  that  the  ground  sloped 
downward  to  a  thin  strip  of  bushes  ;  a  stream  was  there, 
he  thought,  and  at  once  he  walked  down  the  slope,  for  he 
was  thirsty,  and  the  bushes  would  screen  him  in  his 
advance  nearer  to  the  fires.  He  found  a  brook,  running 


BARNEY  151 

to  his  rear,  and  drank  ;  then  he  followed  the  line  of  strag- 
gling bushes,  which  stretched  not  directly  toward  his 
object,  but  approached  gradually.  The  hollow  deepened 
and  Squire  felt  secure.  Near  enough,  he  crawled  up  the 
slope  at  his  left,  and  lying  there  could  see  many  men 
gathered  around  small  fires,  and  others  moving  this  way 
and  that ;  but  most  of  them  had  taken  off  their  coats, 
and  he  could  not  tell  the  colour  of  their  uniforms.  Long 
stacks  of  arms  reflected  the  moonlight,  and  these  arms 
showed  the  bayonet  —  another  indication  that  the  troops 
were  Federal ;  for  many  of  the  Confederate  infantry, 
through  lack  or  through  purpose,  did  not  burden  them- 
selves with  this  comparatively  useless  weapon,  and  Squire 
knew  that,  in  the  Southern  ranks,  stacks  were  frequently 
formed  by  using  the  heads  of  the  rammers.  And  then  the 
negro  heard  the  steady  tramp  of  a  few  men  near  by  and  a 
moment  later  saw  a  squad  pass, — a  sergeant  no  doubt, 
engaged  in  the  duty  of  posting  a  camp-guard,  —  and  he 
could  see  the  diagonal  shoulder  belts  for  their  cartridge- 
boxes  —  a  distinctly  Federal  token,  for  the  Southerners, 
almost  to  a  man,  placed  cap-box,  scabbard,  and  cartridge- 
box  on  one  single  waist  belt. 

Squire  crept  back  to  the  hollow,  and  went  to  the  woods 
again,  and  pursued  his  way  northward,  avoiding  the  road, 
upon  which  he  could  now  see  moving  wagons.  He  was 
greatly  disheartened  ;  his  hope  for  relief,  for  food,  for 
protection,  had  gone,  and  in  its  place  were  fear  and 
sharper  hunger ;  yet  he  trudged  along,  though  painfully, 
looking  well  ahead  and  about  him  for  any  evidence  of  a 
habitation  where  he  might  beg  a  little  food  —  he  must 


152  OLD  SQUIRE 

take  risks  or  starve.  He  passed  the  spot  where  he  had 
slept ;  it  was  at  his  right  rear  some  forty  rods,  when  he 
was  brought  to  a  stand  by  fires  in  his  front. 

Yes,  there  they  were,  stretching  far  on  both  sides  of  his 
road,  and  he  knew  at  once  that  troops  had  marched  past 
him  while  he  slept,  and  had  halted  for  the  night  beyond 
him  —  he  was  between  two  divisions  of  the  enemy. 

But  for  the  negro's  physical  weakness,  the  situation 
would  not  have  been  perilous ;  strong  and  unweary,  he 
would  but  have  given  himself  the  task  of  walking  far 
around  this  encampment;  but  to  the  exhausted  a  mile 
more  is  an  enormity.  He  sat  down  and  then  lay  flat  on 
his  face,  this  time  without  alertness,  almost  in  despair. 

Then,  in  a  moment,  he  stood  again  —  the  sound  of 
marching  came  from  his  rear,  and  its  meaning  was  plain  : 
a  great  body  of  troops,  perhaps  a  full  army  corps,  was  by 
divisions  coming  from  rear  to  front,  and  successively  tak- 
ing up  their  places  for  the  night,  and  the  division  or 
brigade  which  he  now  heard  would  soon  bivouac  in  the 
interval  where  he  was  standing,  ready  for  its  position  in 
the  column  on  the  morrow.  Old  Squire  had  interpreted 
correctly :  General  Meade  was  concentrating  toward  Get- 
tysburg ;  the  troops  on  the  road  were  the  Second  Corps, 
under  General  Hancock ;  they  had  marched  from  Monoc- 
acy  Junction,  and  were  halting  according  to  the  order  of 
the  next  march. 

But  Squire's  fright  soon  diminished  ;  he  decided  to  be 
still  and  let  the  troops  camp  around  him.  They  would 
not  suspect  him ;  he  was  not  getting  into  their  lines  ; 
they  were  getting  into  his. 


BARNEY  153 

A  regiment  filed  to  the  left  of  the  road,  stacked  arms, 
and  broke  ranks;  another  passed  farther  and  filed  to 
the  left,  parallel  with  the  first,  not  a  hundred  yards 
separating  the  two,  stacked  arms  and  broke  ranks,  the 
negro  between  the  lines.  Other  regiments  filed  on  and 
formed. 

The  negro  was  standing  still.  All  round  him  men  were 
making  lights,  men  were  searching  for  fuel  in  the  woods, 
the  interval  between  the  stacked  arms  thickly  swarming 
with  men.  Under  his  feet  lay  dead  sticks  and  leaves. 
Squire  gathered  an  armful  and  walked  to  the  nearest 
regiment,  passing  men  who  gave  no  attention  to  him. 
Before  him  were  clusters  of  men,  gathered  about  feeble 
flames  on  the  ground. 

"  Mahsta,  I's  got  some  kindlin'  f uh  you,"  says  the  old 
man,  showing  his  fuel. 

"  All  right,  sonny,  hand  her  here.  Where'd  you  come 
from  ?  Live  about  here  ?  " 

"  No,  sah,  I  b'longs  wi'  de  calvry ;  but  dey's  done 
went  awn  an'  I  couldn't  keep  up  wid  'em  no  mo'e." 

Old  Squire's  kindling  flamed  up,  and  lighted  his  face 
and  the  faces  of  six  infantrymen,  their  eyes  on  the  fire, 
each  eager  to  finish  and  get  to  rest. 

"  What  cavalry's  that  you  belong  to  ?  " 

"You  know  Mahs  Dan  Mawgin,  Mahsta?  He's  de 
man  w'at  I  'tends  to." 

"  Know  where  any  water  is?  "  asked  another,  but  little 
interested  in  Morgans. 

"  Yassah,  dey's  a  good  branch  a  little  ways  out  yan- 
deh.  Ef  you  wants  me,  I  kin  show  it  to  you,  an'  all  I 


154  OLD  SQUIRE 

axes  is  some'h'm  to  eat,  an'  to  stay  long  wid  ju  all,  tell  I 
kin  ketch  up  wi'  de  calvry." 

"All  right,  old  man;  come  on,  and  show  me  the 
way." 

It  would  have  been  less  irregular,  perhaps,  for  these 
men  to  report  at  once  to  their  officers  the  presence  of  a 
stranger,  but  the  help  offered  was  not  to  be  renounced ; 
besides,  there  was  the  lieutenant,  at  the  next  fire  but  one, 
and  he  could  see  for  himself — why  report  a  fact  that  is 
already  evident? 

Squire  found  the  water,  picked  up  more  fuel  in  return- 
ing, helped  in  the  quick  boiling  of  the  coffee,  made  him- 
self so  useful  to  the  men  that  each  contributed  from  his 
rations  for  the  negro's  wants,  and  on  the  next  morning, 
June  30,  he  found  himself  brevetted  without  ceremony 
as  the  temporary  camp-servant  of  the  mess  which  he  had 
taken  in,  and  followed,  on  July  1,  along  with  other 
servants,  in  the  rear  of  the  regiment  in  its  march  on 
Gettysburg. 

Many  and  wonderful  were  the  questions  which  had 
been  asked  him ;  but  by  simulating  ignorance  of  organ- 
ization and  locality,  he  had  evaded  serious  inquiry. 

The  old  man  had  learned  from  the  soldiers'  talk  that 
a  great  battle  was  expected ;  he  would  march  to  the  field, 
knowing  that  thus  he  should  reach  his  friends  by  the  most 
sure  and  direct  road.  Before  the  battle,  or  after,  as  the 
case  might  be  determined  for  him,  he  would  slip  away  in 
the  night  and  rejoin  Mahs  Chahley.  He  had  abandoned 
his  bridle,  and  had  picked  up  an  old  blouse  thrown  away 
by  some  burdened  infantryman. 


BARNEY  155 

On  the  morning  of  the  1st  the  corps  was  near  Taney- 
town,  twelve  miles  southeast  from  Gettysburg.  The 
march  was  continued,  and  soon  it  became  rapid,  and  ru- 
mours were  thick  concerning  battle  that  had  begun  far 
at  the  front.  Officers  rode  back  and  forth  along  the 
column,  pressing  the  march,  and  all  camp  followers  were 
ordered  out  of  the  roadway.  At  length  Squire  found 
himself  in  a  crowd  of  non-combatants,  white  and  black,  at 
the  rear  of  the  division ;  there  were  ambulances,  baggage 
wagons,  teamsters  too  many,  a  few  civilians,  sutlers, 
stragglers,  the  half  sick,  everything  that  swells  the  crowd 
that  hangs  to  the  rear  of  an  army  about  to  engage  in 
battle.  The  old  man  easily  succeeded  in  attaching  him- 
self to  one  of  the  sutlers. 

The  advance  of  the  camp  followers  had  been  arrested. 
The  column  had  gone  on ;  the  roar  of  artillery  could  be 
heard,  though  as  yet  miles  to  the  northwest.  The  middle 
of  the  afternoon  had  come.  Squire  was  lying  under  the 
sutler's  wagon,  drawn  aside  from  the  road  which  must 
not  be  blocked ;  he  had  fed  the  horses,  and  had  fed  him- 
self heavily,  and  was  half  dozing ;  yet  with  his  head  on 
the  bare  earth  he  could  not  fail  to  feel  the  throbbing  of 
Hall's  and  Cooper's  guns  vainly  resisting  the  advance 
of  Hill  and  Ewell  into  Gettysburg,  and  the  sounds  kept 
him  from  actual  sleep.  Squads  of  mounted  men  were 
galloping,  some  north,  some  south ;  from  time  to  time  a 
courier  would  dash  along,  throwing  the  thick  dust  far  and 
wide  —  some  runner  sent  by  the  anxious  Meade  to  hurry 
the  march  of  a  belated  division.  Not  yet  were  the  ambu- 
lances seen  so  far  in  the  rear  with  their  loads  of  wounded 


156  OLD  SQUIRE 

and  dying  —  the  field  hospitals  were  nearer  the  battle- 
ground. 

"Say  there,  old  man,"  shouted  the  sutler  from  the  in- 
side of  the  wagon ;  "  get  up  and  water  the  horses." 

"  Yassah ;  whah  I  gwine  to  git  de  wateh,  Mahsta,  —  up 
yandeh  at  dat  house,  whah  dem  yotheh  men's  a-gwine?" 

"  Yes ;  a  bucketful  apiece  will  do." 

Squire  had  to  cross  the  road ;  he  followed  another 
negro  who,  with  buckets  in  hand,  had  also  started — a 
young  man,  tall,  brown,  sprightly  ;  he  had  come  from  the 
direction  of  the  baggage  wagons.  Just  as  they  were  in 
the  middle  of  the  road  a  horseman  spurring  hard  from 
the  south  swerved  to  avoid  the  old  man,  and  in  an- 
other second  reined  up  violently  and  turned. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "how  is  it  by  this  time?" 

The  young  negro  had  stopped  by  the  roadside;  he 
lifted  his  cap,  but  the  horseman  failed  to  observe. 

"  Mahsta,  dat  no  'count  hoss,  he  done  guv  clean  out, 
an'  lef  me  awn  de  groun';  you  seed  Mahs  Dan  any  mo'e, 
Mahsta?" 

"  No ;  say,  do  you  know  Captain  Freeman  ? "  laughed 
the  rider. 

"  Cap'm  Freeman  ?  No,  Mahsta ;  I  mought  ha'  seed 
him,  sah,  but  I  dunno  his  name  —  leastways  I  done  mos' 
fohgot.  Is  Mahs  Dan  wid  him,  sah  ?  " 

"  Didn't  you  come  to  Captain  Freeman  over  in  Lou- 
doun  and  tell  him  to  come  and  get  Lieutenant  Morgan, 
who  was  wounded,  you  said  ?  Now,  old  man,  own  up. 
Tell  me  what  you  meant  by  playing  that  trick.  Who 
was  it  that  Freeman  got  ?  " 


BARNEY  157 

Old  Squire  put  down  his  buckets  and  scratched  his 
head.  "  Mahsta,  is  Mahs  Dan  huht  bad  ?  I  ain't  nuvveh 
cotch  up  wid  'im,  sah,  seuce  dat  yotheh  day  dess  befo'e 
I  met  up  wid  ju,  Mahsta.  Is  Mahs  Dan  huht  bad  ?  " 

"  Old  man,  you're  a  sharp  one  ;  but  I  tell  you,  Free- 
man's got  a  crow  to  pick  with  you.  He  says  you  fooled 
him.  Let  me  see  —  what's  your  name  ?  "  The  horseman 
was  laughing,  notwithstanding  his  words.  The  presence, 
here  in  the  Federal  army,  of  the  negro  who  had  befooled 
Freeman,  could  not  possibly  cause  Dahlgren  to  suspect 
that  he  himself  had  been  the  deceived. 

"  John,"  said  Squire,  promptly. 

"  Do  you  know  a  man  named  Squire  ?  " 

"Oh,  yassah,  I  knows  de  man  dey  calls  ole  Squiah. 
Squiah  he  live  down  in  ole  Fihginny  ;  he  ain't  no  'count. 
You  know  Squiah,  Mahsta?" 

"  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  Squiah  ?  I  'spec'  he  some'h's  about,  Mahsta.  He  say 
he  gwine  wi'  Mahs  Dan  hese'f,  an'  I  'spec'  he  tryin'  to 
fine  him  now,  sah." 

"Well,  you  and  Squire  between  you  have  got  the 
captain  well  worked  up.  Better  settle  it,  old  man," 
and  the  horseman,  still  laughing,  shook  his  whip  at 
Squire  and  rode  north,  having  already  knocked  up  one 
horse  on  his  great  ride  this  day,  pushing  on  to  carry  to 
his  general  the  captured  letter  of  Davis  to  Lee. 

"Lawd  Gawd  fohgive  ole  Squiah  feh  tellin'  lies  awn 
hese'f,"  muttered  the  old  man,  picking  up  his  buckets  ; 
"  but  den  de  good  book  hit  say  dat  dou  shalt  not  mek  no 
false  witness  ag'in  yo'  neighbouh  —  an'  I  ain't  no  Squiah's 


158  OLD  SQUIRE 

neighbouh  ;  I  is  ole  Squiah  hese'f ,  —  dat  I  is,  an'  ef  I 
tell  a  lie  ag'in  ole  Squiah  de  good  book  hit  don't  say 
nothin'  ag'in  dat.  But  I's  a-gwine  to  fight  shy  o'  dat 
man  —  now  I  is,  feh  sho'." 

This  soliloquy  was  hardly  ended  before  the  young 
negro,  who  had  waited,  accosted  the  old  one. 

"Unc  John,  do  you  know  dat  man  you  was  a-talkin' 
to?" 

"Yas,  chile  —  leastways  I's  seed  him  befo'e.  Doezh 
zhu  know  him  ?  " 

"  Dat's  Cap'm  Dalgreen.  I  use  to  know  him,  but  he's 
done  fohgot.  Whah  you  be'n  all  dis  time  dat  I  ain't 
seed  you  befo'e  now  ?  "  And  the  young  negro  looked 
curiously  at  the  old  man. 

"  Me  ?  Blesh  yo'  life,  chile,  I's  be'n  nios'  eve'y whah  ; 
I's  be'n  in  ole  Fihginny,  an'  I's  be'n  oveh  in  Mellan'  an' 
Penns'vania,  an'  in  Loudoun,  an'  mos'  down  to  Richmon', 
an  mos'  eve'y  whah.  Who  izh  you  wid  ?  " 

"I'm  with  one  o'  dem  baggage  wagging.  You  done 
runned  feh  freedom,  Unc  John?" 

"  Me  ?  Wat  I  want  feh  to  run  ?  I's  a-gitt'n'  mighty 
ole  an'  stiff  to  be  a-runnin',  an'  de  good  book  hit  say  hit 
ain't  no  use  to  put  yo'  pennence  in  runnin',  noh  in  fight'n' 
notheh.  You  don't  go  wi'  de  fight'n'  men  —  doezh  zhu, 
chile?" 

"  Dey  come  an'  tuck  me  away,"  said  the  younger  man 
in  a  low  voice. 

"  Whah  you  raised,  chile  ?     Wat  sho'  name  ?  " 

"  My  name  Bahney,  Unc  John  ;  I  be'n  tuck  away  f  om 
my  folks  way  down  in  Goochlan',  an'  I  ain't  had  no 


BARNEY  159 

chance  to  git  back  no  mo'e.  Lemme  draw  de  wateh 
fuh  you,  Unc  John." 

"  Dat's  right.  De  good  book  hit  say  be  ye  kine  to  de 
ole  man,  'cazhe  you  dunno  w'en  you  got  to  lay  in  de  same 
bed.  How  long  you  done  be'n  away  f'om  home  ?  " 

"  Dey  tuck  me  when  dey  come  down  dah  las'  yeah ;  I 
disremembeh  how  long  hit's  been  exackly." 

Old  Squire  did  not  approve  of  Barney's  lack  of  enter- 
prise ;  he  had  no  doubt  that  many  opportunities  for 
escape  had  been  neglected  ;  this  young  fellow  seemed 
deferential  and  obliging,  but  not  yet  did  the  old  man 
decide  to  trust  him,  for  Squire  knew  that  the  slaves  were 
greatly  divided  in  opinion  as  to  their  proper  course. 
Given  the  incentive  of  freedom  on  the  one  hand  and  the 
centripetal  influence  of  home  on  the  other,  those  who  held 
to  home  and  kindred  would  be  the  old  ;  while  the  young 
would  covet  liberty  and  the  excitement  of  novel  scenes 
even  though  dangerous  ;  many  would  be  incapable  of  a 
firm  decision,  and  would  act  rashly  and  repent  afterward. 

"  You  ain't  tole  me  who  you  is  wid,"  said  Squire. 

"I've  got  a  job  wi'  dem  waggins.  You  see  dem 
waggins  right  oveh  yondeh  whah  dem  gray  mules  is? 
Dat's  my  place  now." 

"  You  ain't  be'n  wid  'em  all  de  time  ? "  asked  the  old 
man,  shrewdly  observing  the  conditional  ending  of 
Barney's  speech. 

"No,  sah  ;  fust  I  was  with  Cap'm  Freeman." 

"  Wat  Cap'm  Freeman  dat  shu  talkin'  about,  chile  ?  " 

"  Cap'm  Bob  Freeman  ;  same  man  dat  Cap'm  Dalgreen 
was  a-talkin'  about ;  but  he  done  got  mos'  kilt  down  to 


160  OLD  SQUIRE 

Kelly's  Fohd,  an'  I  jest  had  to  do  the  bes'  I  could.  Who 
you  with,  Unc  John  ?  " 

"Wid  Misteh  Woods  —  dat  sutleh's  waggin.  Much 
obleeged,  Bahney,"  and  Squire  picked  up  one  of  his 
buckets.  "  Ef  I  don't  see  you  no  mo'e,  Bahney,  I's 
a-gwine  to  tell  you  good-by,"  and  they  shook  hands ; 
but  Barney  whispered,  "  I'm  a-gwine  to  come  and  see 
you  ag'in,  Unc  John." 

"  Well,  Bahney,  you  kin  come,  an'  ef  you  sticks  to  me  den 
you  need'n'  to  call  me  Unc  John  no  mo'e.  I  be'n  call  my 
right  name  John  feh  dat  man  w'at  rid  by  wid  he  whup, 
but  Squiah'll  do  feh  you,  Bahney,  leastways  ef  you  sticks 
to  me." 

As  he  went  back,  Squire  was  vaguely  disturbed  by  fears 
and  disconnected  thoughts  for  his  race.  This  Barney,  like 
many  others,  had  been  enticed  from  home  by  alluring  pros- 
pects that  could  never  be  made  valid.  Squire  knew  the 
type ;  his  own  fellows,  whom  he  had  seen  grow  up  around 
him,  had  gone  from  home,  most  of  them  to  a  life  of  suf- 
fering of  which  from  time  to  time  he  had  indistinctly  heard 
wretched  rumours.  He  pitied  them,  and  pitied  Barney, 
whom  he  rated  as  wanting  in  decision ;  for  he  could  not  be- 
lieve that  for  a  whole  year  the  young  fellow  had  never  found 
opportunity  to  abandon  the  life  he  was  now  leading.  To 
Squire's  mind  there  was  no  possibility  of  doubt  concerning 
his  own  interest ;  his  friends  were  all  of  one  side ;  his 
home,  which  to  him  was  not  the  uncertain  possession  of  a 
few  years  to  be  abandoned  for  another  when  change  should 
come,  was  the  home  of  his  fathers  and  his  children  —  one 
lasting,  earthly  home  that  could  not  be  disputed.  The 


BARNEY  161 

sojourn  in  the  Virginia  mountains  was  but  a  visit  ;  his 
people  would  return,  and  home  would  be  home  again. 
And  as  for  Barney,  the  old  man  believed  that  he,  too,  loved 
his  home,  and  wanted  to  return  to  it,  and  he  felt  something 
akin  to  contempt  for  the  strong  young  man  who  allowed 
slight  difficulties  to  prevent  his  realizing  the  dearest  of 


Toward  night  the  roar  of  the  guns  had  died  away,  and 
the  highway  was  filled  with  infantry  in  double  columns 
hastening  forward  for  the  renewal  of  the  battle.  The 
crowds  in  the  rear  held  their  places,  the  provost-marshal 
having  placed  a  guard  in  their  way  —  a  guard  sufficiently 
strong  to  keep  them  from  moving  toward  the  perilous  front. 

Slavery  encouraged  respect  for  the  old.  There  were 
other  negroes  around,  in  the  disconnected  camps  of  the 
loose  crowd  in  the  rear,  but  somehow  Barney  was  attracted 
to  Squire  ;  he  came  to  the  old  man. 

"  Unc  Squiah,  did  ju  come  away  f  'om  home  willin'  ?  " 

"  Chile,  de  good  book  hit  say  don't  shu  git  in  too  big  a 
hurry  to  move  de  ole  lan'mahk  an'  to  fohsake  de  people 
w'at  shu  raised  up  wid.  I  corned  f'om  home,  Bahney,  but 
I's  a-gwine  to  git  back  ag'in  —  leastways  ef  de  good 
Lawd'll  be  awn  my  side  dess  one  mo'e  time.  W'at  fuh 
you  ax  me  dat  queshton  ?  " 

"  'Gaze  I  jest  wants  to  see  de  Jim  Riveh  so  bad  dat  I 
can't  rest.  My  ole  mammy  is  down  dah,  an'  my  daddy  is 
done  dead,  an'  I  don't  know  uothin'  about  what's  become 
of  'em  all,  an'  I  don't  see  nothin'  no  mo'e  but  trouble." 

"  W'at  mek  you  done  lef  '  'em  ?  " 

"  'Gaze  I  ain't  had  no  betteh  sense.     Dey  done  tole  me 


162  OLD  SQUIRE 

dat  de  white  folks  is  mean  to  me,  an'  now  dey  is  jest  as 
mean — an'  wuss.  When  de  cap'm  was  heah  he  treated  me 
right,  but  now  I  sho'  wants  to  git  back.  Dis  heah  country 
ain't  like  what  I  wants.  How  you  gwine  to  git  back,  Unc 
Squiah?" 

"  Wat  shu  ax  dat  fuh  ?  You  gwine  to  go  wid  me  w'en 
I  go?" 

"  Unc  Squiah,  ef  you  jest  let  me  go  too,  I'll  wohk  my 
fingehs  off  to  help  you  awn  de  way." 

"  But  how  we  gwine  to  mek  any  staht  now  ?  Don't  shu 
know  dey's  a-fight'n'  up  de  road  ?  " 

"Yes,  sah,  but  we  can  go  back.  We  can  staht  back 
down  to  Vihginny." 

This  proposition  had  no  charm  for  Squire ;  he  must  seek 
and  find  Mahs  Chahley. 

"  But,  Bahney,  chile,  de  way  to  git  back,  hit  ain't  to  go 
dat  a-way  —  hit's  to  go  dis  a- way,"  pointing  northeast, 
in  which  direction  the  old  man  had  seen  his  friends  of  the 
Confederate  cavalry  ride. 

"  How  come  dat,  Unc  Squiah  ?  " 

"  'Caze  dat's  de  way  to  fine  ouah  folks,  an'  w'en  dey  gits 
done  fight'n' dey'll  go  back  to  ole  Fihginny,  an'  den  we 
kin  go  back  wid  'em.  Ef  dey  gains  de  day,  den  dey  kin 
go  back,  an'  ef  dey  don't  gain  de  day,  den  dey's  got  to  go 
back." 

Which  reasoning  convinced  Barney,  and  a  plot  was  laid 
for  an  attempt  on  the  following  night. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  MEETING 

"  Where  mingles  war's  rattle 
With  groans  of  the  dying." 

—  SCOTT. 

THE  night  of  July  1  brought  rest  to  Squire,  but 
little  rest  to  the  Union  army.  The  First  corps,  —  de- 
feated, —  the  Eleventh,  badly  disorganized,  were  gather- 
ing their  scattered  men  in  rear  of  the  Third  and  Twelfth, 
who  were  intrenching,  while  the  Second,  near  at  hand,  and 
the  Fifth  and  Sixth,  a  day's  march  behind,  were  hastening 
to  the  relief  of  the  discomfited  on  whom  the  brunt  of  to- 
morrow's battle  must  not  be  allowed  to  fall. 

The  morning  of  the  2d  came  and  went.  Stuart  had 
marched  south  from  Carlisle,  and  was  now  on  Lee's  left 
flank.  Squire,  at  Meade's  far  rear  on  the  Taneytown 
road,  heard  the  pounding  of  artillery  west,  northwest, 
almost  north,  and  knew  that  a  great  battle  was  waging, 
but  knew  not  in  whose  favour.  Among  the  crowds  of 
camp  followers  there  had  spread  many  startling  rumours  : 
how  that  Gettysburg  was  occupied  by  the  rebels,  General 
Reynolds  killed,  a  great  defeat  inevitable  ;  and  it  was 
said  that  a  council  of  war  had  decided  on  retreat,  yet 
there  were  no  strong  indications  of  a  withdrawal.  Many 

163 


164  OLD  SQUIRE 

ambulances  had  gone  by  to  the  rear,  and  many  slightly 
wounded  afoot,  and  at  times  the  road  was  almost  filled 
with  straggling  men  making  their  way  from  the  battle  in 
spite  of  the  weak  provost-guard  ;  but  ambulances  and 
wounds  and  rumours  of  great  losses  may  not  mean  a  de- 
feated army  ;  no  battle,  in  which  the  opponents  number 
scores  of  thousands,  is  won  or  lost  without  many  fluctua- 
tions of  the  bloody  wave :  here  it  rises  high  and  sub- 
merges the  foe,  but  it  ebbs,  and  rolls  back  on  those  who 
think  their  feet  have  touched  the  solid  earth;  while  at 
some  adjacent  curve  the  tide  sweeps  forward  upon  treach- 
erous ground  that  lures  to  destruction.  The  long  front 
lines  of  men  sway  forth  and  back,  this  way  and  that  way, 
repulsed  here,  victorious  there,  and  the  average  of  the 
battle  for  or  against,  no  man  in  the  line  may  know.  He 
must  fight  the  enemy  in  his  front ;  the  brigade  at  the 
right  may  succeed  ;  but  if  that  at  his  left  be  repulsed,  his 
own  brigade  gives  way,  so  great  is  the  dread  of  being 
flanked  and  captured. 

In  the  afternoon  the  west  roared  for  hours,  too  far 
away  for  Squire  to  hear  the  musketry  of  Longstreet  and 
Sickles,  except  in  its  greatest  volumes,  but  constant  and 
loud  with  cannon. 

The  negro's  instinct  persisted  in  placing  his  friends  at 
his  right,  and  he  had  determined  to  seek  the  Confederate 
left,  not  knowing  that  he  was  separated  from  Lee's  right 
by  but  half  the  distance  to  Stuart.  When  darkness 
should  come,  which  would  not  be  darkness,  for  a  full 
moon  would  rise  at  twilight,  the  two  negroes  would  meet 
at  the  well,  where  time  and  again  they  had  gone  for  water. 


THE  MEETING  165 

Squire  was  taciturn,  deliberate,  resolved  ;  Barney,  capri- 
cious, talkative,  intermittently  uncertain.  Squire  endeav- 
oured to  strengthen  him  but  failed,  and  wished  to  be  alone. 

The  moon  was  rising  above  the  trees.  In  the  yard 
around  them  were  many  men,  some  camping  here  for  the 
sheltering  grove,  others  waiting  their  turn  for  water.  The 
old  negro  led  the  way,  Barney  closely  following.  In  the 
northwest  the  noise  of  battle  had  died  ;  but  it  had  broken 
out  in  the  north,  a  little  to  the  left  of  their  course,  where 
at  this  moment  Johnson's  division  of  E well's  corps  had 
carried  the  Federal  intrenchments  on  the  slope  of  Gulp's 
Hill. 

There  was  no  need  at  first  for  stealth  ;  as  yet  there 
were  wagons  all  round  them,  bivouacs  of  this  and  that, 
reserve  artillery,  officers'  baggage  wagons,  medical  people's 
tents  deserted  except  by  a  servant  or  two,  skulk- 
ing stragglers,  moving  men,  single  and  in  groups  —  mov- 
ing in  every  direction.  Yet  Squire  avoided  unnecessary 
publicity  ;  he  kept  away  from  the  groups,  away  from  the 
fires,  and  gave  the  wagons  distance.  No  one  accosted 
them  ;  their  course  along  the  rear  fringe  of  the  army  was 
safe  until  the  flank  should  be  reached  ;  then  they  must 
beware. 

An  hour's  march  through  field  and  grove  brought  them 
to  the  edge  of  a  wide  road,  the  road  from  Gettysburg 
through  Littlestown  and  Westminster  to  Baltimore.  In 
the  front,  or  nearly  so,  the  sound  of  fighting  had  become 
clearer,  but  its  volume  was  not  so  great.  Johnson  had 
pushed  on  toward  the  Baltimore  road  where  Meade's 
ammunition  wagons  were  parked,  but  resistance  to  his 


166  OLD  SQUIRE 

advance  had  ceased  until  better  preparation  could  be 
made,  and  his  further  advance  itself  had  been  at  first 
timid,  and  at  length  was  given  over  through  fear  of  the 
unknown.  At  the  road  Squire  halted,  for  it  was  blocked 
by  a  body  of  troops  hurrying  to  the  left.  In  neither  direc- 
tion could  Squire  see  the  end  of  the  column  ;  he  turned 
to  the  right :  he  would  go  down  the  road  and  cross  it 
sooner  by  making  his  own  progress  in  a  contrary  course 
bring  him  to  the  rear  of  the  troops  ;  but  almost  at  once 
the  troops  halted  ;  then  loud  voices  commanded  a  counter- 
march, and  the  column  faced  about  and  marched  down 
the  road  at  the  double  quick.  Squire  had  again  come  to  a 
halt. 

But  the  movement  soon  ceased ;  the  troops  fronted 
north,  and  were  allowed  to  be  at  ease  —  in  line,  however, 
and  with  musket  in  hand. 

The  night  was  going  ;  the  moon  had  almost  reached 
the  zenith  ;  within  the  next  four  hours  Squire  must  suc- 
ceed or  fail  ;  here  was  an  impassable  wall,  its  length  un- 
known, perhaps  impossible  to  flank.  The  negro  was 
puzzled  ;  by  waiting  he  might  at  any  time  see  the  road 
become  free  of  troops  ;  to  the  contrary  he  might  wait  in- 
definitely —  by  going  to  the  left  he  would  be  going  into 
the  battle  lines  at  the  extreme  front ;  by  trying  the  right 
he  would  be  getting  farther  from  his  object ;  he  knew  not 
what  to  do.  In  his  dilemma,  Squire  refused  to  consult  ; 
he  had  found  Barney  lacking  in  fixed  purpose  and  weak  in 
suggestion  ;  he  must  decide  himself,  and  he  decided  upon 
movement. 

They  crossed  roads  and  small   streams,   and   a   creek 


THE  MEETING  167 

where  they  had  great  difficulty  ;  when  on  its  eastern  bank 
they  rested  and  slept.  Before  sunrise  they  set  out  again, 
now  northward,  avoiding  the  fields  ;  when  the  openings 
were  large,  they  sought  the  hollows  or  crept  along  fence 
rows.  About  nine  o'clock  they  stopped  on  the  edge  of  a 
cultivated  valley  into  which  a  wooded  ridge  projected  at 
its  farther  side,  with  a  great  barn  over  there  near  the  woods 
almost  half  a  mile  away.  At  the  east  the  fields  stretched 
too  far,  but  looking  northwest  for  a  way  of  approach 
Squire  saw  a  crooked  line  of  small  growth  starting  near 
the  buildings,  curving  about  in  its  sunken  course,  and 
growing  wider  and  taller  as  it  crossed  the  open. 

Squire  pointed.  "Dat's  de  way.  Dat  dah's  de  spring 
branch  dat  comes  f'om  de  spring  ;  dat's  dess  de  way  de 
spring  branches  does  away  back  in  ole  Fihginny.  I 
b'lieve  I  kin  mos'  see  de  spring  up  yandeh.  Come  awn, 
Bahney.  Le's  git  down  in  de  branch  ;  den  we  kin  go  ahaid 
an'  git  acrawst.  An'  we's  a-gwine  to  have  some  fallin' 
weatheh,  too ;  don't  shu  heah  dat  raincrow  ?  An'  hit's 
Friday,  too."  Meanwhile,  he  had  turned  ;  Barney  fol- 
lowed, and  still  in  the  edge  of  the  woods  the  two  went 
down  the  hill  to  the  left,  and  then  up  the  stream,  creeping 
through  the  fringe  of  bushes  that  grew  on  the  west  border 
of  Rummel's  spring  branch,  and  had  made  half  the  dis- 
tance across  the  open  when  a  shell  shrieked  above  their 
heads,  and  then  another,  and  another. 

******* 

The  morning  of  the  3d  was  hot  and  dry.  At  a  far  dis- 
tance in  the  southwest  Armstrong  could  see  Round  Top, 
opposite  Longstreet's  right,  and  all  along  Meade's  line, 


168  OLD  SQUIRE 

curving  like  a  fish-hook,  and  all  along  Lee's  lines  enfold- 
ing, he  could  hear  the  boom  of  cannon,  mingled,  near  by, 
with  the  ring  of  the  sharp-shooter's  rifle.  Yet  there  came 
no  volleying  musketry  from  the  dense  lines  of  infantry 
on  either  ridge.  Lee  was  holding  and  massing,  in  prepara- 
tion for  attack  on  Meade's  centre. 

General  Stuart  had  connected  with  Lee's  left  on  the 
2d  ;  on  the  morning  of  the  3d  he  moved  farther  to  the 
left,  making  eastward  toward  Hanover,  that,  in  case  Lee's 
assaults  should  prove  successful,  the  cavalry  could  seize 
the  roads  by  which  the  Federals  would  be  forced  to  with- 
draw, and  turn  the  retreat  into  rout. 

Stuart  marched  on  the  York  road  ;  two  miles  east  of 
Gettysburg  his  column  filed  right,  and  moved  toward  the 
rear  of  Meade's  army,  keeping  in  the  forest  in  order  to 
avoid  observation  by  the  enemy.  At  ten  o'clock  there 
was  a  halt.  The  head  of  Jenkins's  brigade  had  reached 
a  sort  of  wooded  promontory  that  overlooked  a  wide, 
open  stretch  to  the  south  and  east.  Behind  Jenkins  was 
Chambliss,  commanding  W.  H.  F.  Lee's  brigade;  then, 
with  an  interval,  came  Hampton,  and,  after  Hampton, 
Fitz  Lee  —  a  formidable  body  in  all,  if  the  organizations 
had  been  full,  but  most  of  the  regiments  were  little  larger 
than  original  companies.  One  of  the  batteries  had  by 
some  mischance  supplied  itself  with  defective  shells,  and 
some  of  the  battalions  were  short  of  cartridges.  The 
ridge  on  which  the  column  had  halted  faces  another  and 
parallel  range  of  wooded  hills  at  the  south,  where  nothing 
could  be  seen  ;  a  gentle  valley  between,  crossed  by  fences 
here  and  there,  and  checkered  with  yellow  wheat  and 


THE  MEETING  169 

green  corn,  while  the  prominent  feature  of  the  interval 
was  Rummel's  great  barn,  distant  some  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  edge  of  the  wood  in  which  Stuart 
formed  his  line,  the  right  of  which  held  the  promontory 
—  the  termination  of  the  wooded  hills.  Here  Stuart 
himself  halted,  and  with  his  glass  searched  the  surround- 
ing fields  and  groves  for  indications  of  the  enemy's  pres- 
ence; then  he  ordered  Jackson's  battery  to  fire  three 
shots,  possibly  a  signal  to  Lee  that  the  cavalry  was  in 
position. 

At  the  moment  of  the  first  discharge  the  two  negroes 
had  fallen  flat. 

"  Lawdy,  Unc  Squiah,  how  is  we  gwine  to  git  out  o' 
heah  ? "  asked  Barney,  for  the  moment  showing  great 
fear. 

"I  dunno  who  dey  is,  chile.  Ef  I  knowed  dey  wus 
ouah  folks,  I'd  dess  go  awn  up  to  'em ;  but  we  dunno  who 
dey  is,  an'  we  got  to  stay  right  down  heah  tell  we  know 
who  dey  is." 

Barney's  terror  soon  gave  place  to  reasonable  apprehen- 
sion ;  the  low  spot  to  which  they  clung  was  defended  on 
all  sides  but  one  by  higher  ground,  the  only  view  being 
almost  directly  north  toward  Rummel's  barn.  He  raised 
himself  to  look. 

"  I  see  'em,"  he  said.  "  Dey's  a-comin',"  and  when 
old  Squire  got  to  his  feet,  and  parted  the  bushes,  he  too 
saw  a  line  of  skirmishers  advancing  from  the  woods. 

The  troops  which  the  negroes  saw  marching  toward 
Rummel's  barn  were  the  Thirty -fourth  Virginia  battalion 
under  Colonel  Witcher;  they  passed  the  barn,  and,  in 


170  OLD  SQUIRE 

orderly  alignment,  took  position  behind  a  rail  fence,  their 
right  flank  some  three  hundred  yards  from  Squire's  posi- 
tion, too  far  to  tell  whether  they  were  friends. 

"  Dey  may  be  ouah  folks,  Unc  Squiah,"  Barney  said, 
"  an'  den  ag'in  dey  may  be  de  Yankees.  Anyhow,  dey's 
not  cavalry.  I  b'lieve  dey's  got  long  guns  ;  dem  ain't  no 
cahbines.  Dah,  now  !  I  see  some  of  'em  a-loadin' ;  dey's 
got  long  guns." 

"  Dat  don't  alluz  count,  Bahney.  Some  o'  ouah  calvry 
totes  long  guns."  And,  in  fact,  the  troops  they  saw 
were  armed  with  Enfields. 

The  negroes  hugged  the  hollow  of  the  spring  branch  ;  to 
ascend  either  hill  at  left  or  right  would  expose  them ; 
to  go  forward  would  be  going  into  wrong  lines  perhaps ; 
to  go  back  was  still  less  to  be  thought  of,  for  they  had 
already  heard  at  their  right  rear  many  sounds  which  they 
knew  were  made  by  troops  taking  position. 

Opposite  Stuart  was  Macintosh's  brigade,  which  the 
Confederate  signals  had  warned  to  prepare  for  action. 
No  sooner  had  the  Virginians  aligned  along  the  fence 
than  a  shell  screamed  over  and  into  the  woods  behind 
them.  Jackson,  unlimbered  near  the  extreme  right, 
replied,  and  drew  the  fire  of  the  Federal  batteries  —  a 
most  destructive  fire  that  speedily  silenced  the  Confed- 
erate guns.  As  yet,  the  Confederates  had  seen  no  enemy, 
except  far  away  and  indistinctly;  but  now  there  came 
from  the  opposite  woods  and  on  down  the  slope  a  line  of 
dismounted  men,  the  First  New  Jersey  advancing,  and 
skirmishing  began.  Even  yet  old  Squire  knew  not  which 
side  of  the  field  to  seek.  He  saw  the  Federal  skirmishers 


THE  MEETING  171 

advance,  but  skirmishers  usually  carry  no  flag,  and  he 
was  unable  to  tell  that  they  were  Federals.  The  contest 
continued,  the  two  lines  facing  each  other,  the  negroes' 
position  being  three  hundred  yards  to  the  west  of  the 
interval. 

Three  miles  to  the  southwest  a  tempest  was  roaring  ; 
the  great  cannonade  of  Gettysburg  preliminary  to  the 
charge  of  Pickett  and  Pettigrew  had  begun,  and  the  hostile 
cavalry  here  on  the  flank  nerved  themselves  for  the  strife 
—  the  Federals  to  prevent  Stuart  from  turning  them,  their 
enemies  to  seize  the  road  in  Meade's  rear.  Part  of  the 
Third  Pennsylvania  reenforced  the  skirmishers,  extending 
their  left,  which  almost  reached  the  branch,  yet  was  hidden 
from  Squire  by  irregular  ground.  The  firing  was  rapid 
on  the  hill  at  the  negroes'  right. 

The  Federal  skirmishers  had  almost  spent  their  car- 
tridges ;  the  Fifth  Michigan  was  ordered  to  advance  and 
relieve  them.  The  change  was  not  made,  for  the  old  line 
was  tempted  to  retire  too  early,  and  the  Confederates, 
seizing  the  opportunity,  pushed  on  with  loud  shouts, 
driving  the  Union  skirmishers. 

And  then  old  Squire  knew  that  the  force  at  the  north 
was  Confederate,  and  that  at  the  south  Federal ;  he  knew 
by  the  sound  of  the  yelling. 

"  Bahney,  come  right  awn  now  ;  dem's  ouah  folks  right 
up  dah  in  de  woods  beyant  dem  houses." 

The  negroes  had  made  but  a  few  paces  forward  through 
the  bushes,  when  there  came  a  great  change  in  the  nature 
of  the  fight.  General  Gregg  having  arrived  upon  the  field, 
with  Custer's  Michigan  brigade,  had  at  once  determined 


172  OLD  SQUIRE 

to  take  the  offensive  ;  but  even  while  he  was  giving  orders 
to  Ouster,  a  regiment  of  gray  horsemen  moved  out  from 
the  east  of  Rummel's  and  came  sweeping  down  the  open. 
This  was  the  First  Virginia,  and  could  be  seen  by  the 
negroes  before  it  reached  the  level.  At  once  the  Seventh 
Michigan  charged,  almost  from  Squire's  rear,  its  left 
storming  by  within  pistol  shot,  its  whole  length  rolling 
toward  the  Confederate  skirmishers,  who  had  withdrawn 
to  their  first  position  behind  the  rail  fence. 

Footmen  well  posted  are  not  afraid  of  cavalry.  The 
Southerners,  moreover,  counted  on  two  delays  in  the  ad- 
vance of  their  enemy,  for  two  fences  were  in  the  front,  and 
they  held  their  ground,  expecting  to  see  the  Federal  cavalry 
broken  by  cannon  ;  but  at  neither  fence  was  the  halt  pro- 
longed or  the  integrity  of  the  ranks  seriously  impaired. 
Men  dismounted,  threw  off  the  top  rails,  and  remounted 
in  the  rear  as  their  comrades  passed  the  obstructions. 
The  skirmishers  must  run  or  be  taken. 

But  the  flank  of  the  blue  horsemen's  line  began  to 
waver.  Off  at  the  east  the  Virginians  were  coming,  ready 
to  strike  and  roll  up  the  Federal  right  when  it  should  have 
advanced  sufficiently  far. 

And  to  the  south  of  the  barn  the  Federals  were  stirring — 
a  long  line  of  horse  moving  forward  from  Gregg's  left. 

The  charge  upon  the  skirmishers  fell  promptly,  but  not 
on  all  the  line,  the  right  of  the  Federals  hesitating,  and  at 
length  refusing  to  expose  its  flank  to  the  Confederate 
cavalry.  Horsemen  were  riding  through  the  skirmish 
line,  striking  with  sabre,  firing  close  shots  with  pistol, 
making  prisoners  of  men  afoot,  yet  losing  constantly  from 


THE  MEETING  173 

the  fire  of  cannon,  from  the  fire  of  the  rear  line  in  the 
woods,  and  from  that  of  the  survivors  among  the  Virgin- 
ians, who  retreated  firing.  Disorganization  in  the  Federal 
cavalry  was  certain  ;  it  had  come,  and  then  the  gray  line 
at  the  east  came  thundering  athwart  the  field. 

From  their  sheltered  hiding-place,  Squire  and  Barney  had 
watched  intermittently  all  of  the  fight  that  could  be  seen. 
They  had  at  length  been  able  to  tell  the  Confederate  lines 
which  surged  forth  and  back,  and  to  know  the  artillery  at 
the  north  from  that  at  the  southeast. 

But  rolling  ground  intervened  here  and  there,  and  even 
when  an  entire  regiment  might  else  have  been  in  their 
sight,  the  dust  and  smoke  made  clear  vision  impossible. 
They  had  become  so  wrought  up  by  excitement,  that  they 
had  failed  to  watch  toward  their  rear,  where  Ouster  had 
posted  the  Sixth  Michigan,  and  the  first  that  Squire  learned 
of  this  regiment's  advance  was  to  find  himself  almost  sur- 
rounded by  blue  skirmishers  afoot  who  were  moving  up 
and  across  the  branch.  He  dropped  to  the  ground  and 
pulled  at  Barney's  leg,  but  he  was  too  late. 

"  Hello  !  What  are  you  niggers  doing  here  ?  "  shouted 
the  nearest  soldier. 

The  line  was  passing,  moving  toward  the  northwest, 
the  men  parting  the  bushes  and  speaking  loudly  to  each 
other,  that  they  might  preserve  rank  as  nearly  as  possible 
in  the  midst  of  the  thicket. 

"  'Tain't  nobody  but  me,  Mahsta  ;  I  dess  be'n  a-layin' 
down  heah  to  keep  f'om  gittin'  kilt." 

The  line  passed  beyond  the  branch  some  forty  yards, 
and  halted  in  position  facing  northwest  just  at  the  edge 


174  OLD  SQUIRE 

of  the  thicket,  ready  for  the  enemy  if  they  should  move 
upon  them  from  that  direction. 

And  then  Squire  heard  other  noises  ;  clanking  squad- 
rons rode  up  from  the  south  and  halted  in  line  at  the  east 
of  the  branch,  no  doubt  the  main  body  from  which  the 
dismounted  skirmishers  had  just  advanced  ;  and  other, 
louder,  and  more  confused  noises  Squire  hears,  farther 
away,  where  the  great  contest  rages.  Gregg  hurls  a  re- 
serve squadron  of  the  Third  Pennsylvania  against  the 
Virginians,  who  at  this  moment  are  sweeping  the  field ; 
but  another  gray  line  comes  out  from  the  northeast,  a  line 
led  by  Hampton  and  himself  waving  the  colour.  There 
is  clash  of  sabres,  with  pistol-shot  replying  to  blow  of 
steel,  while  the  cannon  throw  their  shells,  striking  friend 
and  foe.  The  fields  are  alive  with  moving  men  :  here  a 
group  scampering  in  flight,  there,  a  mass  commingled, 
horses  rearing,  swords  uplifted,  smoke  and  dust ;  here 
the  Confederates  giving  ground,  there  the  blue  cavalry 
outnumbered  and  fleeing  ;  at  the  barn  windows  a  few 
skirmishers  still  hold,  firing  rapidly.  Either  side  takes 
prisoners,  either  side  as  it  recedes  leaves  blotches  on  the 
ground  —  dark  spots  only,  but  that  writhe  awhile  and 
then  cease  to  writhe.  Everywhere  there  are  horses  rid- 
erless, some  of  them  mad  with  pain,  stumbling  on  three 
legs,  or  on  two,  others  with  tails  horizontal  and  manes 
floating,  go  storming  into  wrong  lines,  or  race  in  front 
with  stirrups  whipping  their  sides.  Shock  succeeds 
shock  ;  right  and  left  the  battle  swells,  up  in  the  open 
field,  between  the  reserve  lines  north  and  south,  while 
Stuart's  batteries  work  upon  the  cavalry  moving  on  his 


THE  MEETING  175 

right,  the  Michigan  regiments  under  Custer,  whose  squad- 
rons are  touching  the  fringe  of  bushes  where  the  two 
negroes  lie. 

******* 
Even  after  the  main  battle  had  ended  by  the  with- 
drawal of  the  Confederates  to  the  position  which  they  had 
occupied  before  advancing,  Squire  and  Barney  held  to  the 
thicket  ;  movement  toward  the  northeast  over  the  field 
would  have  placed  them  in  double  peril  from  the  opposing 
sharp-shooters  still  seeking  targets,  while  any  attempt  to 
make  progress  northward  would  have  been  detected  and 
stopped  by  the  skirmishers  who  lined  the  west  margin  of 
the  bushy  flat.  Indeed,  these  skirmishers,  who  through 
intense  expectation  of  becoming  engaged,  had  troubled 
them  little,  might  at  any  moment  destroy  their  hopes,  and 
Squire  looked  about  for  a  spot  in  which  he  could  be  hid- 
den from  view  until  nightfall.  Worming  their  way  along 
the  ground,  the  two  succeeded  in  crossing  to  the  east  of 
the  branch,  and  thus  placed  the  whole  width  of  the  strip 
of  bushes  between  themselves  and  those  whose  observa- 
tion they  avoided  ;  then  they  lay  close  to  earth,  fearing 
not  only  to  rise  but  even  to  speak.  The  sky  was  cloud- 
less ;  the  moon  would  rise  a  little  after  nine  ;  brief  ob- 
scurity would  be  given  them  for  protection  in  their 
advance  toward  the  Confederate  lines.  Squire  communi- 
cated with  his  companion  by  signs,  and  Barney,  now  fully 
receptive,  understood.  The  skirmishers,  at  their  left 
some  sixty  yards,  were  motionless  in  their  places  ;  far  at 
the  front  and  far  at  the  rear  there  was  the  hubbub  of 
movement  —  groups  and  detachments  disorganized  by  the 


176  OLD  SQUIRE 

fight,  shouting  and  riding  hither  and  yon,  seeking  to  re- 
store their  scattered  lines  —  but  at  length  all  noises  ceased, 
save  that  from  the  field  so  recently  given  to  the  clamour 
of  battle  the  old  man  imagined  the  groans  of  the  wounded 
breaking  the  silence  of  twilight. 

The  time  had  come.  Squire  whispered  to  Barney  and 
crawled  to  his  right  oblique,  parting  the  bushes  with  care ;  at 
their  limit  he  looked  long  up  the  hill.  The  skirmishers' 
backs  were  toward  him,  and  he  knew  that  once  on  the  rise  the 
growing  wheat  would  serve  as  a  screen;  he  crept  on,  encour- 
aged. At  length,  just  as  he  was  at  the  top,  a  great  shout 
arose  at  his  left  rear,  the  shout  of  some  skirmisher  of  the 
hitherto  silent  line,  caused  by  no  telling  what,  but  sounding 
to  the  old  man  like  the  crack  of  doom  ...  he  rose  and  fled. 

But  only  for  a  moment  did  he  thus  expose  himself. 
Twenty  yards  passed  over,  the  brow  of  the  hill  hid  him 
from  the  left,  and  he  dropped  flat  in  the  wheat  to  evade 
detection  from  his  rear.  Barney  had  followed  closely. 

When  the  short  darkness  came,  which  was  not  complete, 
for  the  coming  moon  already  faintly  silvered  the  east,  they 
rose,  and  made  more  rapid  progress  straight  toward  the 
great  barn  ;  but  after  a  little,  hearing  voices  at  the  front, 
Squire  dropped  again  and  crawled  toward  the  east  through 
the  wheat. 

The  old  man  was  making  his  way  slowly,  pausing  now 
and  then  to  raise  his  head  and  look. 

"Unc  Squiah." 

"  Wat  de  matteh,  chile  ? "  He  had  stopped,  and 
turned  his  head. 

"  Didn't  shu  heah  some'h'm  ?  " 


THE  MEETING  177 

"  No,"  and  the  old  man  turned  again  to  go  on  ;  but  he 
did  not  go  on  ;  his  hand  had  come  down  on  something 
soft  —  something  that  felt  unlike  wheat,  or  grass,  or  earth, 
but  smooth,  nevertheless,  and  cold.  Though  his  hand  had 
been  snatched  away  on  the  instant,  he  still  felt  the  cold 
thing  whose  momentary  contact  had  checked  the  beating 
of  his  heart.  He  knew  at  once  that  he  had  placed  his 
hand  on  the  face  of  a  dead  soldier. 

"Why  you  don't  go  awn,  Unc  Squiah?"  whispered 
the  younger  man,  seeing  no  cause  for  the  delay. 

Perhaps  there  is  none,  who,  such  an  incident  coming 
into  his  experience,  would  have  regarded  it  as  trivial ;  to 
Squire  the  event  was  enormous.  All  men  are  supersti- 
tious ;  the  negro  is  superstition.  When  Squire  touched 
the  dead  man's  face,  strength  left  him.  In  his  crude  be- 
lief an  omen  of  utter  misfortune  had  been  shown  —  his 
very  life  was  forfeit,  and  dismay  had  so  unnerved  him 
that  for  an  instant  he  was  not  able  to  reply  to  Barney, 
who  again  spoke,  urging  him  to  go  on. 

"  Fah  you  well,  Judy,"  the  old  man  at  length  muttered; 
"fahwell,  Mahs  Chahley  ;  fahwell,  ole  Mahsta  and  eve'y- 
body  ;  ole  Squiah  done  got  his  call ;  Lawd,  do  please  foh- 
give  dis  mis'ble  ole  sinneh  feh  all  w'at  he  done  wrong." 

"  What  de  matteh  with  you,  Unc  Squiah  ?  Why  you 
don't  go  awn?" 

"Bahney,  chile,  you  go  awn  ahaid  now.  I  done  be'n 
whah  I  can't  see  de  light  no  mo'e  ;  you  go  ahaid." 

Barney  ranged  alongside.  "What  dat  dah  thing  awn 
de  groun'  ?  " 


178  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Somebody." 

The  dead  man's  face  was  toward  them,  his  length 
stretched  in  the  wheat. 

"  Which  side  he  was  awn  ?  " 

"I  dunno,  Bahney." 

"  What  de  matteh  with  you,  Unc  Squiah  ?  What  make 
you  so  change  ?  You  feahed  o'  dead  man  ?  " 

"  Dat  man  he  so  cole." 

"  You  done  totch  him,  den  ?  Oh,  my  Godamighty,  Unc 
Squiah  ! " 

For  a  full  minute  neither  spoke,  each  absorbed. 
»*#**** 

"  I'm  a-gwine  th'ough  him,"  said  Barney  at  length. 
"He's  a  Yankee,  an'  he's  got  some'h'm." 

The  old  negro  made  no  protest,  and  the  younger  man, 
horrified  the  previous  moment  to  learn  that  his  companion 
had  incurred  disaster  by  touching  the  body,  proceeded  to 
rifle  it ;  but  then  every  one  knows  the  difference  between 
desecrating  a  corpse  through  inadvertence  and  doing  it 
for  a  purpose.  What  Barney  found  he  put  into  his  own 
pockets,  telling  the  old  man  nothing  ;  but  his  booty  must 
have  been  encouraging,  for  at  once  he  rose  cautiously  and 
looked  about  him,  and  then  began  to  move  away,  saying, 
"  Don't  go  'way,  Unc  Squiah  ;  I  gwine  to  be  back  in  a 
minute  ;  dah's  anotheh." 

Now  Squire  followed  Barney  ;  the  old  man  could  not 
bear  to  be  alone  with  the  ghastly  object  which  had  brought 
him  calamity ;  he  found  his  companion  bending  over 
another  of  the  fallen. 


THE  MEETING  179 

**  Dis  ain't  no  Yankee,"  said  Barney ;  "  he  ain't  got 
nothin'  ;  I  ain't  a-gwine  to  tetch  him."  He  straightened 
to  his  full  height  and  looked  about.  Objects,  small  and 
large,  spotted  the  trodden  wheat ;  the  large  ones  were 
horses. 

Barney  moved  on  ;  he  wanted  more  prey. 

"  Stop,"  said  Squire  ;  "  who  dem  a-comin'  yandeh  ?  " 

Some  fifty  yards  in  the  front,  two  men  were  moving 
about ;  with  their  eyes  just  above  the  level  of  the  wheat 
the  negroes  watched  ;  the  two  men  became  invisible  ;  they 
had  stooped  in  the  wheat. 

"  I  'xpec'  dey's  a-gwine  to  git  it  all,"  Barney  grumbled. 

A  minute  passed  and  the  two  soldiers  rose  to  their  feet. 
They  seemed  to  struggle  with  some  object  between  them ; 
they  moved  away  slowly,  going  toward  the  Confederate 
lines. 

"  Come  awn,"  said  Squire  ;  "  dem's  ouah  men ;  dey's 
a-gittin'  up  de  wounded  men ;  we's  all  right  now,"  a  true 
joy  bringing  the  first  little  relief  from  his  fear  of  por- 
tended death ;  but  as  he  put  his  foot  forward  he  heard  a 
groan  and  stopped. 

"  Unc  Squiah,  jest  wait  a  little  bit ;  I  be  with  you  in 
one  minute." 

"I  gwine  to  see  who  dat  is,"  said  Squire,  willing  to 
grant  delay. 

While  the  old  man,  directed  by  repeated  groans,  went 
straight  forward,  cautiously,  however,  lest  he  tread  upon 
some  hidden  horror,  Barney  made  to  the  right  and  bent 
over  the  body  of  a  Federal  officer.  He  turned  the  pockets 
and  rose. 


180  OLD  SQUIRE 

"Bahney!   Bahney!" 

The  tones  were  loud  and  startling,  making  the  young 
man  shake  with  fear. 

"  Bahney !  Bahney !  "  again  the  loud  words  rang,  filling 
him  with  terror ;  front  and  rear  specks  of  light  flashed 
out,  as  the  skirmishers  fired  across  the  wheat  at  the 
noises.  He  dropped  to  his  knees  and  crawled  toward 
Squire,  who  continued  to  shout :  — 

"  Come  quick,  Bahney  I     Hit's  my  young  mahsta !  " 


CHAPTER  XV 
O'DONNELL'S  PRISONERS 

"  Why,  then,  lead  on.     0,  that  a  man  might  know 
The  end  of  this  day's  business  ere  it  come  1 " 

—  SUAKESPEAHB. 

SEVENTEEN  miles,  General  Imboden  tells  us,  was  the 
length  of  the  trains  and  escort  which  the  Confederate 
chieftain  on  the  4th  ordered  back  to  Williamsport.  In 
one  of  the  many  wagons  filled  with  wounded,  Charles 
Armstrong  lay,  uttering  groans  that  went  to  the  heart  of 
old  Squire,  who  trudged  along  in  the  rainy  night,  refusing 
to  leave  his  master  whom  he  had  saved  from  captivity  if 
not  from  death.  The  old  negro  was  alone,  for  Barney 
had  found  it  convenient  to  make  some  temporary  business 
arrangement  which  demanded  that  he  follow  Jenkins's 
brigade,  and  Squire  felt  distress  that  was  not  unmixed 
with  relief.  Mahs  Chahley  was  more  than  enough  on  his 
hands  without  having  to  take  charge  of  another  incapable. 

The  road  was  rough,  the  night  was  black,  rain  fell  in 
sheets,  but  the  wagons  were  urged  on  desperately  —  all 
through  the  black  night  old  Squire  walked  behind  the 
wagon;  where  they  were  going  he  knew  not;  that  the 
Eighteenth  Virginia  led  the  advance,  that  the  train  was 

181 


182  OLD  SQUIRE 

as  long  as  a  county,  that  Mahs  Dan  and  his  friends  were 
in  the  rear  with  Fitz  Lee's  brigade,  the  old  man  knew 
not  —  he  only  knew  that  Mahs  Chahley  was  in  the  wagon. 

Before  getting  well  started  Squire  went  to  a  barnyard 
near  by  and  boldly  seized  a  great  armful  of  hay,  with 
which  he  made  Armstrong's  condition  a  little  less  intoler- 
able ;  and  at  halts  on  the  encumbered  road  he  brought 
water,  and  worked  in  every  way  to  lessen  his  master's  dis- 
tress ;  yet  the  considerable  halts  were  few ;  the  wagon 
would  go  a  long  distance  bumping  over  stones  and  washes, 
rolling  the  wounded  about  and  against  one  another  ;  then 
after  an  instant's  halt  it  would  jerk  forward,  causing  cries 
and  moans,  curses  and  prayers  ;  and  at  sudden  slopes 
would  lurch  heavily,  and  wring  a  wail  in  which  no  voice 
could  be  distinguished.  Seventeen  miles  of  human 
agony. 

Barney  had  attached  himself  to  an  officer  of  the  Thirty- 
fourth  battalion,  who  had  met  the  negroes  as  they  were 
bearing  Charles  Armstrong  from  the  field  of  battle,  and 
had  followed  the  part  of  Stuart's  command  which  marched 
by  Emmitsburg  across  the  mountains.  He  foraged  and 
found  himself  cut  off  by  the  Federals  who  were  vigorously 
attacking  Swell's  wagon  trains ;  but  the  negro  gave  them 
great  margin,  fearing  to  be  questioned  closely.  He  went 
westward,  toward  Hagerstown,  hearing  the  sounds  of 
artillery  in  many  directions. 

July  6  Stuart  moved  upon  Hagerstown.  The  great 
trains  had  reached  Williamsport,  the  point  selected  for 
crossing  the  Potomac ;  but  there  was  no  bridge,  and  the 
ford  was  impracticable  from  high  water.  Imboden  looked 


O'DONNELL'S  PRISONERS  183 

after  the  defences,  for  the  position  might  suddenly  become 
perilous.     The  rear-guard  was  not  yet  up. 

The  Federal  cavalry  division  under  Buford  marched 
from  Frederick  upon  Williamsport,  that  under  Kilpatrick 
from  Boonsboro  upon  Hagerstown.  There  were  bright 
skies  and  highest  hopes  ;  no  great  numbers  of  the  enemy 
could  well  be  at  Hagerstown  ;  it  was  reported  that  Lee's 
army  was  making  for  the  ford  at  Williamsport  by  the 
way  of  Greencastle,  for  General  French  had  already 
destroyed  the  Confederate  pontoon  bridge  at  Falling 
Waters.  The  men  were  buoyant,  full  of  pride  in  the  great 
victory  over  Lee's  army,  and  responded  quickly  to  every 
demand  upon  strength  and  courage. 

******* 

Barney  was  resting  ;  his  mind  was  not  fully  made  up  ; 
whether  to  go  on  westward,  to  strike  south  at  once  for 
Virginia,  to  engage  again  with  some  Federal  officer,  were 
disturbing  questions.  He  was  not  satisfied  with  his 
present  way  of  living  ;  alone,  his  courage  failed  him  ; 
with  another  to  lead,  he  could  follow.  Squire  had  cor- 
rectly read  the  young  negro,  who,  even  at  this  moment, 
was  thinking  of  the  old  man's  urgent  advice  to  remain 
faithful  to  his  Southern  home. 

Barney  fell  asleep,  and  his  awakening  was  rude  ;  he 
heard  loud  voices  almost  above  him. 

"  Now,  will  ye  belave  me,  Misther  Hawley  ?  And  will 
ye  give  me  the  credit  for  the  taking  of  'm  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  says  Hawley  ;  "  but  how  do  you  know  what 
he  is?" 

"  He's  a  ribel's  naygur,  he  is  ;  anny  wan  can  tell  it  by 


184  OLD  SQUIRE 

his  skin ;  it  nades  graise,  and  the  insoides  of  'm  no 
less." 

Barney's  eyes  were  still  almost  closed,  and  the  men 
were  standing  outside  of  his  line  of  imperfect  vision,  but 
the  voices  were  perfectly  familiar. 

"  Wake  up  !  "  cried  Hawley,  punching  the  negro  with 
his  foot. 

With  a  jerk,  Barney  sat  up,  and  looked  about,  pretend- 
ing confusion.  On  either  side  stood  a  blue  soldier, 
Hawley  afoot,  holding  his  bridle,  O'Donnell  mounted. 

"Ho,  bedad  !  And  if  it's  not  Barney,  then  it's  his 
brother  !  " 

"  Yes,  sah.  Howdy,  Mist'  O'Donnell.  Howdy,  Misteh 
Hawley." 

"  And  tell  the  blissed  truth  and  shame  the  divil  now, 
dam  ye  !  D'ye  belong  to  the  ribels  ?  " 

"  Who,  me  ?  Now,  Mist'  O'Donnell,  you  ain't  done 
pokin'  yo'  fun  yet  ?  How  come  you  think  I  done  go 
back  on  you  all  ?  Don't  shu  know  dat  I  stuck  to  you  all 
jest  as  long  as  de  cap'm  staid  ?  " 

"  Say,  O'Donnell,  we've  got  no  time  to  be  fooling  here. 
The  best  thing  to  do  is  for  one  of  us  to  take  him  back  to 
the  captain." 

"  Roight  ye  are,  me  b'y.  Come,  Barney,  gettup,  and 
marrch  before  me,  and  ye'll  soon  see  that  same  captain 
that  ye  loike  so  well." 

"  And  you  get  back  here  dam  quick,  O'Donnell,"  said 
Hawley.  "  This  place  is  not  as  safe  as  an  ironclad  ;  the 
Johnnies  are  not  half  a  mile  off." 

If  Barney  felt  any  distress  at  being  thus  haled  before 


O'DONNELL'S  PRISONERS  185 

his  old  protector,  he  was  careful  not  to  show  it,  and 
marched  in  O'Donnell's  front  without  objecting  ;  indeed, 
the  negro  hoped  to  end  suspense  by  finding  favour  with 
Captain  Freeman,  who  had  treated  him  kindly,  and  whose 
service  he  was  not  disinclined  to  undertake  again. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  at  the  rear  of  the  vedette  post, 
near  which  Barney  had  been  sleeping,  Freeman's  company 
was  found  drawn  up  as  mounted  skirmishers,  and  O'Don- 
nell  at  once  conducted  his  prisoner  to  the  captain. 

"  Wan  more  for  O'Donnell,  sor,  if  ye  plaise  ;  the 
siventainth  for  the  waik." 

"  You  want  to  count  this  man  a  grayback  ?  "  said  Free- 
man, laughing,  and  not  yet  having  recognized  his  former 
servant ;  then,  looking  more  closely,  he  cried  :  — 

"  Why,  my  Lord,  man,  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Cap'm,  I  jest  ain't  quit  a-wonderin'  ef  dat  izh  you, 
sho'  nuff.  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,  sah.  You  done  got 
well?" 

"  Yes.     Where  have  you  been,  Barney  ?  " 

"  Cap'm,  I've  jest  be'n  a-runnin'  'roun'  loose  mos'  eveh 
sence  you  done  lef  me.  I've  had  a  hahd  time,  sho'." 

"  But  how  did  you  get  here  ?  "  Freeman  was  some- 
what suspicious,  simply  because  he  knew  that  the  ground 
had  very  recently  been  occupied  by  the  rebels. 

"  I  got  los'  in  de  woods  way  back  yondeh  las'  night, 
sah,  an'  I  jest  kep'  awn  a-gwine,  'caze  I  was  afeahed  all 
de  time  dat  I  run  up  awn  de  wrong  folks,  sah  —  an'  I  did 
run  up  awn  'em,  sah." 

"  Who  do  you  serve  now  ?  " 

The  question  was  a  poser.     Barney  knew  names  enough, 


186  OLD  SQUIRE 

but  he  dreaded  consequences  ;  any  officer  whose  name  he 
should  give  might  afterward  be  consulted  by  Freeman, 
whom,  though  willing  to  serve,  he  feared  greatly. 

"De  las'  man  I  tuck  up  with  was  with  de  baggage 
waggins,  sah,  Misteh  Dodson," — giving  the  truth,  so 
far  as  it  went, —  "  but  I  done  got  cut  off  f 'om  de  waggins, 
an'  I  jest  didn't  know  whah  to  go,  sah ;  an'  las'  night  I 
got  in  a  crowd  o'  de  wrong  folks,  Cap'm,  but  I  got  away 
dis  mawnin'." 

A  bugle  was  heard  somewhere  in  the  rear.  Freeman 
ordered  an  advance. 

"  Well,  Barney,"  said  he,  "  I'd  take  care  of  you  if  you 
could  keep  up  with  us,  but  I  can't  wait  for  you.  What 
are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  If  I  jest  knowed  whah  yo'  waggin's  a-gwine  to  be  at, 
I'd  go  to  it,  sah." 

"  Well,  make  your  way  to  Hagerstown,"  said  Freeman, 
pointing,  and  then  marched  on. 

Stuart's  two  brigades  under  Chambliss  and  Robertson, 
the  two  not  greater  than  a  full  regiment,  marched  from 
Leitersburg  and  occupied  Hagerstown.  Kilpatrick's  first 
brigade,  under  Colonel  Richmond,  reached  Hagerstown 
from  Boonsboro,  and  drove  the  Confederates  to  the  pro- 
tection of  Iverson's  infantry  brigade,  which  held  the 
northern  side  of  the  town.  Stuart  himself  was  coming 
westward  from  Chewsville,  and  Kilpatrick's  main  body 
was  coming  into  the  town  from  Boonsboro. 

Kilpatrick's  advance  had  thus  intervened  between  Stuart 
and  Williamsport ;  and  beyond  Kilpatrick  the  rebel  com- 
mander could  hear  Buford's  guns  thundering  upon  Imbo- 


O'DONNELL'S  PRISONERS  187 

den,  who,  in  awful  suspense,  Fitz  Lee's  brigade  miles  in 
the  rear,  called  into  momentary  service  his  teamsters,  the 
convalescents  among  the  wounded,  all  men  who  could 
make  a  show,  and  as  pretence  of  strength  marched  them 
up  and  down  in  sight  of  his  enemy. 

Stuart  attacked  and  broke  through  Kilpatrick's  advance, 
and  passed  on  ;  but  the  Federal  main  body  now  had  its 
say  ;  there  was  bloody  encounter  in  the  streets,  charge 
and  countercharge,  both  sides  fighting  with  almost  unex- 
ampled stubbornness.  Squadron  after  squadron  charged, 
and  dead  and  wounded  littered  the  carriage  ways  and 
sidewalks.  Captain  Snyder  was  picked  up  dead,  Captain 
Chauncey  was  fearfully  wounded,  and  Dahlgren  was 
found  fainting  from  a  smashed  foot  —  the  three  officers 
falling  in  the  last  daring  charge. 

Meanwhile,  Kilpatrick  was  swinging  his  flank  across  the 
Williamsport  road.  Behind  the  hills  at  Williamsport,  old 
Squire  could  hear  fighting  east,  northeast,  and  north,  while 
the  head  of  Fitzhugh  Lee's  brigade,  forcing  the  march  on 
Williamsport,  could  hear  the  same  sounds  southeast  and 
east.  Imboden  was  sorely  pressed  ;  he  longed  for  Fitz 
Lee  as  Napoleon  for  Grouchy — and,  unlike  Grouchy,  Fitz 
Lee  came. 

Half  a  mile  to  the  left  of  Lee's  column,  eight  picked 
men,  Morgan  the  foremost,  rode  at  long  intervals,  cover- 
ing the  east  of  the  whole  brigade.  The  march  of  these 
men  was  very  rapid,  for  the  leader  had  only  his  judgment 
to  rely  upon,  and  his  orders  required  him  to  keep  at  least 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  to  the  left  oblique  of  the  head  of 
the  column,  which  he  was  told  would  move  at  the  rate  of 


188  OLD  SQUIRE 

five  miles  an  hour.  Woods  intervened  here  and  there, 
and  hills,  so  that  the  sergeant  could  not  positively  know 
at  all  times  that  he  was  preserving  good  distance  ;  as  for 
the  men  in  his  rear,  all  each  had  to  do  was  to  keep  his 
leader  in  sight  and  watch  toward  the  east,  toward  Hagers- 
town,  where  the  fight  between  Stuart  and  Kilpatrick 
threatened  again  to  become  battle.  Dusk  was  gather- 
ing, and  still  they  rode  with  great  intervals,  each  seeing 
the  form  of  his  leader  more  indistinctly,  Morgan  guessing 
his  way,  almost  unconsciously  increasing  his  speed,  and 
sheering  gradually  toward  his  left,  for  at  the  west  in  open 
ground  he  saw  a  dark  moving  body  which  could  be  no 
other  than  the  head  of  Fitz  Lee's  column,  and  he  feared 
that  his  own  march  had  been  slower  than  his  duty  re- 
quired. But  soon  his  fear  was  changed,  for  the  moving 
objects  were  nearer,  and  he  began  to  think  that  the  brigade 
had  left  the  main  road  and  was  marching  southeastward. 
He  deflected  yet  more  ;  for  a  few  hundred  yards  he  rode 
almost  at  the  top  of  his  poor  horse's  speed,  a  hill  shutting 
from  view  the  marching  column;  and  when  again  he 
reached  level  ground  he  was  astounded  to  see  the  column 
almost  within  a  stone's  throw  at  his  right  and  to  know  that 
it  was  moving  squarely  eastward  .  .  .  and  a  column  no 
longer,  but  a  body  of  mounted  troops  marching  in  line. 
Morgan  halted  ;  any  further  advance  on  his  part  would 
have  put  him  in  easy  speaking  distance  of  these  troops 
which  now  he  feared  were  not  Lee's.  He  turned  in  his 
saddle  to  see  if  possible  how  far  northward  the  line  ex- 
tended, and  as  he  turned  he  struck  his  spurs  deep,  and 
pulled  bridle  eastward,  for  he  saw  himself  almost  sur- 


O'DONNELL'S  PRISONERS  189 

rounded  by  enemies,  many  of  them  already  cutting  in 
between  him  and  Sency,  his  nearest  follower.  It  was  a 
vicious  chase.  "  Halt  !  "  —  "  Halt !  "  —  "  Halt !  "  came 
from  three  sides,  as  his  horse  made  the  first  bound  ;  and, 
at  the  second,  shots  were  fired,  and  then  loud  shouts  and 
many  thundering  hoofs  sounded  in  his  rear. 

Morgan  was  not  a  light-weight,  but  what  he  didn't 
know  about  riding  is  not  worth  knowing,  and  all  that  he 
feared  beyond  a  stray  bullet  was  the  condition  of  his 
already  overworked  horse.  As  luck  would  have  it,  the 
ground  was  good,  a  narrow  road,  but  firm,  and,  knowing 
that  if  by  a  sudden  spurt  he  could  outreach  the  vision 
of  his  pursuers  he  would  change  long  doubt  into  quick 
success,  he  bent  forward  and  urged  his  tired  beast  to  do 
his  uttermost  at  once,  —  and  for  a  hundred  yards  the  re- 
sponse was  generous,  —  the  mud  flew  from  under  the 
horse's  hoofs,  and  the  sergeant  believed  he  should  escape  ; 
but  he  could  still  hear  the  pursuers  coming,  many  of 
them  it  seemed  by  the  noises,  and  he  soon  felt  the  speed 
of  his  horse  begin  to  slacken.  Every  moment  was  in- 
valuable :  rapidly  increasing  darkness  in  his  favour, 
rapidly  decreasing  strength  against  him,  he  knew  that  in 
the  time  it  takes  one  to  count  a  hundred  his  fate  must 
be  decided.  Oh,  for  a  descending  slope,  a  long  descent, 
where  the  opposing  hills  would  shut  his  form  below  the 
sky  line  !  But  even  as  he  thought  the  wish,  the  ground 
in  front  began  to  rise  and  place  him  above  his  enemies. 
He  looked  to  the  right  —  there  the  same  condition  ;  then 
to  the  left,  and  he  turned,  for  there  he  saw  better  chance, 
though  he  knew  that  the  very  divergence  had  almost 


190  OLD  SQUIRE 

destroyed  his  hopes,  for  he  was  compelled  to  bear  away 
from  the  Potomac,  whereas,  before,  he  had  been  fleeing 
from  the  enemy's  extreme  right  flank  retiring  (for  it 
was  Buford's  men  that  had  cut  him  off),  and  he  felt  ne- 
cessity so  urgent  that  he  dropped  his  carbine  to  lighten 
weight,  and  even  started  to  throw  away  sabre  and  pistols  ; 
but  saw  that  he  had  not  time,  as  his  horse  was  even  now 
sinking.  Yet,  although  in  this  dire  strait,  Morgan 
was  not  utterly  resourceless.  He  pulled  rein,  sprang  to 
the  ground,  drew  his  sabre,  gave  the  almost  exhausted 
animal  a  blow  which  goaded  it  to  fresh  if  momentary  ex- 
ertion, and  as  the  horse  galloped  forward  again,  the  man 
slunk  to  the  left  through  weeds  and  briers,  and  then  lay 
flat,  while  many  horsemen  passed. 

Still  he  was  very  far  from  safety  :  would  not  the  enemy 
soon  return  upon  their  tracks  ?  He  thought  not ;  no 
doubt  his  horse,  left  to  the  influence  of  weariness  alone, 
would  be  overtaken  almost  instantly ;  yet  the  enemy 
had  too  serious  business  on  hand  to  allow  such  scattering 
as  would  be  necessary  for  search  in  all  directions  ;  he 
would  wait  until  reasonably  sure  that  no  laggard  was 
still  to  come,  and  then  he  would  try  to  make  his  way 
westward.  The  night  was  as  dark  as  it  would  ever  get 
to  be  ;  the  moon  would  not  rise  until  after  ten  ;  he  had 
two  good  hours  of  obscurity.  How  far  he  had  ridden 
out  of  his  course  he  knew  not ;  indeed,  at  the  beginning 
he  had  been  ignorant  of  his  position,  and  now  he  knew 
nothing  beyond  the  fact  that  the  west  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  Confederate  cavalry,  and  the  east  in  those  of  the 
Federals.  He  had  crossed  fields  and  roads  in  his  head- 


O'DONNELL'S  PRISONERS  191 

long  flight,  —  not  more  than  a  mile  he  thought,  or  two 
miles  at  the  most,  —  yet  he  was  in  grave  fear  that  his 
march  to  the  rear  of  the  enemy's  right  flank  had  been 
caused  more  by  his  own  error  of  direction  than  by  their 
swinging  northward ;  and  if  this  fear  was  based  on 
truth,  then  there  was  no  telling  what  distance  separated 
him  from  his  friends.  Yet  he  must  act,  and  after  a  few 
moments,  hearing  nothing  in  the  rear,  he  rose  and  walked 
rapidly  away. 

Kilpatrick,  reaching  the  Williamsport  pike,  marched 
the  brigades  of  Custer  and  Huey  down  that  road  to  con- 
nect with  Buford's  right  and  overwhelm  Imboden,  while 
Richmond's  brigade  should  hold  Stuart  in  check  at 
Hagerstown.  Stuart  cared  nothing  for  Hagerstown  ;  he 
knew  that  Lee's  infantry  in  a  few  hours  would  be  there 
in  position ;  what  he  wanted  was  to  break  through  Kil- 
patrick and  relieve  Imboden.  At  sunset  he  charged  and 
drove  Richmond's  brigade  toward  Williamsport.  Now 
Kilpatrick  was  in  danger,  and,  receiving  word  that 
Buford  was  withdrawing,  concerned  himself  mostly  about 
the  safety  of  his  rear  under  Richmond,  which  would  soon 
be  driven  hard  upon  him. 

Captain  Freeman's  company  was  retiring  southward, 
in  tolerable  order,  after  severe  fighting  in  which  many 
men  had  been  lost,  the  survivors  preserving  distance  as 
well  as  they  could  for  the  darkness,  when  Private  O'Don- 
nell  raised  a  cry.  Sergeant  Dow,  his  file  closer,  moved 
up.  "  What's  the  matter,  O'Donnell  ?  "  he  called,  seeing 
the  man  bending  over  in  his  saddle  and  struggling,  to 
all  appearance,  with  something  on  the  ground. 


W2  OLD   SQUIRE 

"  Hould  onn  there,  now  !  Don't  ye  be  a-giving  me 
anny  of  yer  tongue;  Oi  know  what  ye  are.  Ye're  a 
dam'd  ribel,  ye  are  ;  so  come  along.  Oi've  got  ye." 

"  Is  he  armed  ?  "  asked  Dow. 

"  Beloike  he  is  armed,  indade ;  but  little  do  Oi  care 
for  that;  his  legs  are  hwat's  giving  me  the  throuble. 
Sergeant,  be  plaised  to  give'm  a  lift,  will  ye,  and  Oi'll 
put'm  behoint  me,  so  Oi  will." 

Morgan  saw  it  useless  to  struggle,  and  after  the  first 
unavailing  attempts  to  evade  the  clutches  of  a  single 
opponent,  submitted  with  all  the  grace  he  could  to  com- 
bined forces.  He  gave  O'Donnell  no  trouble  in  mount- 
ing, and  sat  behind  the  Irishman  in  a  way  to  embarrass 
him  as  little  as  possible. 

"  Now  that's  hwat  Oi  call  acting  loike  a  sinsible  man. 
Be  aisy,  now,  and  kape  the  pace;  ye'll  do  yerself  no 
harrm  by  ut." 

"  All  right,"  said  Morgan,  willing  to  conciliate ;  "  I've 
got  nothing  against  you,  my  friend." 

"  And  Oi  wantt  to  tell  ye  that  it's  me  number  eightain 
that  ye  are." 

"  Be  kind  enough  to  explain,"  said  Morgan. 

"  Oi  will ;  but  ut's  no  koindness  at  all,  at  all ;  I  mane 
that  the  eightainth  wan  that  Oi've  put  me  hand  on  the 
waik  is  named  yerself." 

"  Oh,  git  out,  O'Donnell,"  said  Sergeant  Dow ;  "  the 
man  knows  you're  drunk." 

"  And  did  Oi  not  ?  Oi  tell  ye,  and  it's  Dennis  O'Don- 
nell that  can  back  up  his  worrd,  that  this  gintleman 
behoint  me,  and  he's  a-roiding  so  aisy  and  noice,  he's 


O'DONNELL'S  PRISONERS  193 

me  number  eightain,  and  be  dam'd  to  iverry  wan  that 
gives  me  the  loie." 

The  retreat  had  almost  ended;  the  sound  of  battle 
was  no  longer  heard  ;  the  men  were  silent,  most  of  them, 
as  soldiers  usually  are  after  a  hard  day  in  which  honours 
fall  to  the  enemy,  yet  here  and  there  along  the  ranks, 
now  formed  into  column,  could  be  heard  a  shout  of  in- 
quiry or  reply. 

"Nobody  wants  to  give  you  the  lie,  O'Donnell,  but 
everybody  can't  quite  agree  to  all  eighteen  points.  You 
still  want  to  count  Barney?" 

"  Oi  do.  Eightain  of  'm  and  Oi'm  not  to  be  chaited 
out  of  wan  by  the  loikes  of  anny  wan  of  ye." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  "  roared  Hawley.  "  Black  and  white, 
all's  alike  to  Irish.  Just  so  he  counts,  he  don't  give 
a  dam  what  colour." 

"  And,  Misther  Hawley,  will  ye  be  so  koind  as  to  say 
where  me  number  siventain  would  be  at  this  toime  if 
Oi  hadn't  laid  me  hands  onn'm  ? " 

"  Be  with  the  rebels,  maybe ;  dam  'f  I  know  where, 
and  dam  'f  I  care  ;  maybe  they'd  have  got  him  and 
maybe  they  wouldn't.  What's  that  got  to  do  with  it? 
Think  they'd  have  made  a  soldier  out  of  him  ? " 

"Begod,  and  he  counts  wan,  Oi'm  telling  of  ye. 
Whin  he  worrks  for  the  ribels,  doesn't  he  kape  a  ribel 
in  the  ranks  by  worrking  forr'm,  Oi'm  telling  of  ye  !  " 

Morgan  had  begun  to  feel  interest  in  the  quarrel. 
Hearing  the  word  Barney  had  not  at  first  kindled  any 
curiosity;  he  had  not  applied  the  name  to  any  person 
whom  he  knew ;  but  when  it  became  evident  that  Bar- 


194  OLD  SQUIRE 

ney  number  seventeen  was  a  negro,  he  began  to  see  a 
possibility,  and  when,  in  addition,  he  heard  that  this 
Barney  was  of  doubtful  standing  as  to  his  adherence, 
the  prisoner  suspected  strongly  that  number  seventeen 
was  none  other  than  old  Squire's  mate  who  had  helped 
to  bring  Armstrong  in  from  the  battle-field  at  Gettysburg, 
and  concerning  whom  Squire  had  given  some  little  his- 
tory. And  if  Morgan  had  become  alert,  Hawley's  next 
sally  increased  his  interest  unto  excitement. 

"Yes,"  says  Hawley,  "a  nigger's  as  good  as  a  white 
man  any  day  to  Irish.  That  old  fellow  Squire  that  we 
had  down  at  Rowser's  a  week  ago,  ha  !  ha  !  damned  if 
O'Donnell  didn't  say  he  was  the  biggest  take  the  com- 
pany had  made  since  we  was  at  Kelly's  Ford,  by 
God  ! " 

"  Oi  did,  sor,  and  Captain  Frayman  belaves  it  no  less 
than  Oi  do,  sor;  but  Misther  Hawley,  bad  luck  to  'm, 
he  puts  in  his  worrd  that  he  kills  the  ould  naygur  at 
that  same  Rowser's,  and  he  takes  all  the  proide  out  of 
poor  O'Donnell." 

The  laugh  that  followed  this  retort  had  the  effect  of 
silencing  Hawley,  and  the  Irishman,  restored  to  good 
humour,  never  completely  lost,  said  to  Morgan  in  an 
undertone  :  — 

"  Don't  ye  be  failing  downhearted  now  be  rayson  of  me 
number  siventain  ;  sure,  and  it's  no  disgrace  to  be  wan 
behoint  wan  whin  that  wan  that  ye're  behoint  can  cause 
so  sarious  a  quaurr'l." 

"I  don't  know  so  much  about  that,"  says  Morgan. 
"Don't  seem  to  me  you  are  totin'  fair  with  me.  You 


O'DONNELL'S  PRISONERS  195 

ought  to  count  me  ahead  of  that  nigger,  unless  he's  a 
mighty  good  one." 

"  Sure  and  he's  a  good  wan.  Oi'm  to  show  'm  to  ye, 
and  ye'll  be  sinsible  yerself  that  he's  all  roight  for  siven- 
tain." 

The  company  halted,  and  the  men  were  at  ease,  though 
in  ranks,  Captain  Freeman  having  sent  for  orders.  The 
first  sergeant  reported  one  prisoner. 

"  Let  him  be  sent  to  the  provost-marshal,"  said  Free- 
man ;  "  I'll  let  you  know  when  and  where  as  soon  as  I 
learn,  Sergeant.  Meantime,  see  that  he  is  well  guarded. 
We  bivouac  shortly  ;  I've  already  ordered  the  wagon  up." 

Again  the  march  was  ordered  ;  troops  ahead  of  Free- 
man kept  straight  on  for  Boonsboro ;  his  own  company 
filed  left,  and  after  half  an  hour's  tramp  bivouacked  in 
rear  of  Funkstown. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

UNSTABLE  AS   WATER 

"  But  it  sufficeth  that  the  day  will  end, 
And  then  the  end  is  known.    Come,  ho  !  away  I " 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  Irishman  and  his  number  eighteen  were  on  the 
ground  by  one  of  Freeman's  extinct  bivouac  fires,  Private 
Hawley  erect  above  them,  other  guards  near  by  on  their 
blankets.  O'Donnell,  though  not  on  duty,  had  persisted, 
nevertheless,  in  holding  himself  near  to  Morgan,  whom 
he  claimed  as  his  own  peculiar  and  labelled  property ;  and 
the  sergeant  of  the  guard,  hoping  that  complete  intoxica- 
tion would  speedily  bring  relief  to  all  parties  interested, 
had  avoided  a  useless  altercation  which  he  knew  would 
have  resulted  in  the  necessity  of  reporting  a  comrade 
for  insubordination,  by  tacitly  acknowledging  the  owner- 
ship and  permitting  the  Irishman  to  lie  near  his  prisoner. 
But  O'Donnell,  still  feeling  a  certain  consciousness  of 
interest  in  what  might  happen,  had  refrained  from  the 
finishing  cup  ;  occasionally  he  would  throw  out  an  arm 
and  caress  Morgan's  head  and  give  grunts  of  gratification 
induced  by  the  combined  influence  of  contrary  powers  — 
that  over  himself,  and  his  own  over  another  ;  meanwhile, 
that  other  lay  motionless,  but  with  every  sense  alert. 

196 


UNSTABLE   AS   WATER  197 

Barney  had  succeeded  in  reaching  Freeman's  wagon, 
and,  thanks  to  his  skill  as  a  caterer  in  both  foraging  and 
cooking,  had  prepared  a  supper  which  helped  to  reinstate 
him  in  the  captain's  good  graces,  as  well  as  in  the  old 
position  of  chief  serving-man  for  the  officers'  mess. 

"Brock,"  said  Freeman,  lighting  his  pipe,  "I  wonder 
if  that  rebel  that  O'Donnell  caught  has  anything  to 
eat." 

"  If  he  has,  Captain,  he's  in  better  luck  in  that  respect 
than  the  rest  of  Lee's  army,  if  what  they  say  is  true." 

"Well,  they  don't  tell  me  where  to  send  him,  and  I 
suppose  we've  got  to  feed  him  ourselves.  Barney,  take 
him  something.  Sergeant  Dow  will  show  you  where  he 
is,  if  you  don't  know." 

Barney  already  knew ;  he  had  seen  Morgan  under 
guard  and  had  recognized  him,  and  was  in  terror  of 
revelation  ;  yet  he  trusted  that  the  only  time  he  had 
been  seen  could  not  have  sufficed  for  the  Confederate  to 
impress  feature  and  name  upon  his  mind  ;  so,  pulling  his 
hat  down  to  hide  his  face  as  much  as  he  dared,  he 
approached  Hawley  and  without  a  word  handed  him  the 
food,  making  a  gesture  with  his  hand  as  much  as  to  say 
that  the  food  was  for  the  prisoner ;  then  he  started  to  go 
away. 

"  For  the  rebel,  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Hawley. 

Barney  turned  and  nodded. 

O'Donnell  had  heard  ;  he  scrambled  to  a  sitting  posture 
and  saw  Barney,  who  had  again  begun  to  retreat  silently. 

"Halt !  ye  dam  black  naygur,"  said  O'Donnell ;  "and 
can  ye  not  show  yer  manners  better'n  that  ?  Oi  wantt  me 


198  OLD  SQUIRE 

number  eightain  to  see  ye.  Halt  there,  now,  and  come 
back  wid  je." 

Barney  reluctantly  obeyed ;  the  man  O'Donnell  was 
important ;  he  might  become  the  negro's  enemy,  and 
make  life  a  torture. 

"  Number  eightain,  yer  rations  is  brought  ye  by  num- 
ber siventain,  and  sure  ye  mustn't  have  any  more  harrd 
failings." 

No  doubt  the  prisoner  had  already  been  prepared  for 
quick  recognition  of  Barney,  whose  embarrassment  would 
have  been  betrayed,  in  any  case,  by  his  reluctance  to 
approach ;  yet  Morgan  failed  to  interpret  the  negro  cor- 
rectly, believing  his  conduct  but  natural  through  shame  at 
being  found  a  turncoat  from  the  Confederates,  as  it  were. 

"  So,  you  are  here,"  said  the  prisoner. 

Barney  was  mute ;  he  stood  without  movement,  his  head 
hanging  ;  he  must  take  what  should  come  ;  at  the  worst, 
nothing  more  could  be  said  against  him  than  that  he  had 
helped  a  wounded  Confederate,  and  his  poor  thought 
was  concerned  only  in  providing  excuses  before  Captain 
Freeman. 

"  What  made  you  leave  ? "  asked  Morgan  ;  he  had 
almost  said  "leave  Squire,"  but  had  stopped,  prudence 
telling  him  not  to  show  knowledge  of  the  old  negro  ;  yet 
the  intonation  of  his  interrupted  closing  was  not  unob- 
served by  Hawley,  who  exclaimed  :  "  Finish  your  speech, 
man.  Tell  what  you  know  about  this  nigger." 

The  tone  was  rude  ;  Morgan  did  not  like  it ;  more- 
over, he  considered  that  everything  he  could  say  posi- 
tively would  be  from  his  own  point  of  view  favourable  to 


UNSTABLE  AS  WATER  199 

Barney,  and  to  give  such  testimony  with  the  purpose  of 
doing  harm  would  be  base. 

"  Why  did  you  leave  your  master  ?  "  asked  Morgan. 

Barney  had  determined  to  preserve  obstinate  silence, 
but  he  felt  relieved  by  Morgan's  modified  question,  which 
was  entirely  unimportant  and  might  have  been  addressed 
to  any  former  slave.  Fear  diminishing,  he  reasoned  that 
it  would  be  better,  if  possible,  to  appease  Morgan,  who  if 
angered  might  do  more  than  retaliate. 

"  He's  dead,  sah,"  was  the  false  reply.  Then  the  negro 
said,  "  I  ain't  neveh  done  you  no  hahm,  sah,  an'  I  ain't 
a-gwine  to  do  none,  an'  you  oughtn't  to  be  mad  with  me 
jest  'caze  I  don't  know  you,  and  when  I'm  a-tryin'  to  do 
de  best  I  can."  The  last  words  bore  an  appeal  that 
Hawley  suspected  and  Morgan  felt,  and  both  became  to 
all  seeming  indifferent,  the  one  in  order  to  betray  no  eager 
interest  that  would  put  the  speakers  on  notice  that  their 
peculiar  conduct  was  observed,  the  other  because  he  had 
decided  to  end  the  trivial  thing  and  give  the  poor  darky  a 
chance  to  get  along  in  his  new  circumstances.  But  if  the 
silence  that  followed  proved  embarrassing  to  Barney,  it 
was  felt  as  an  insult  by  O'Donnell,  who  quickly  broke  in, 
addressing  Morgan  :  — 

"  And  have  ye  no  more  to  say,  now  ?  And  the  naygur 
fading  of  ye  ?  " 

"  No,  let  him  go  back  where  he  belongs,"  was  Morgan's 
reply,  given  rudely  with  two  purposes,  —  one  to  allay 
Hawley's  suspicions  that  Barney  was  an  old  friend  to  the 
prisoner,  the  other  to  put  an  end  to  a  scene  that  might 
damage  the  negro. 


200  OLD  SQUIRE 

Barney  went  back  to  the  officers'  bivouac,  where  his 
fears  yielded  to  a  feeling  of  safety,  and  doubtless  he  would 
never  have  dared  to  approach  Morgan  again  but  for  an 
incident  that  he  had  not  foreseen. 

Hawley's  suspicions  had  not  been  entirely  laid  by  the 
prisoner's  tone,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  relieved  he  went  to 
his  commander,  who,  as  luck  would  have  it,  was  found 
alone. 

"  Captain,"  said  he,  touching  his  cap,  "  I'd  like  to  say  a 
few  words  to  you." 

"  Very  well,  Hawley,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"I've  been  seeing  some  strange  things  between  that 
nigger  Barney  and  our  prisoner,  sir." 

"Well?" 

"  I  believe  they  know  one  another,  sir." 

"And  suppose  they  do.  What  of  that?  Barney  is 
from  Virginia,  and  perhaps  the  rebel  is  also." 

"  I  shouldn't  have  thought  very  strange  of  it,  sir,  but 
I  don't  see  why  they  couldn't  say  so  at  once." 

"  Say  what,  Hawley  ?  " 

"  Say  that  they  know  one  another,  sir.  The  man  spoke 
to  Barney  as  if  he  knew  all  about  him,  and  then  Barney 
goes  out  of  his  way  to  say  that  he  didn't  know  him." 

"  That  so  ?  What  did  the  prisoner  say  to  Barney  ?  " 
asked  Freeman,  now  showing  interest. 

"He  asked  him  when  he  left." 

"  When  he  left  what  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  the  thing  hangs  right  there.  When  he  got 
that  far,  he  stopped,  as  if  he  might  be  going  to  say  too 
much  ;  and  then  I  spoke  up,  and  told  him  to  finish ;  but  the 


UNSTABLE  AS  WATER  201 

rebel  is  a  sharp  one,  sir,  —  anybody  can  see  that,  —  and  he 
asked  the  darky  when  he  left  his  master." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  he  was  going  to  ask  at  first, 
Hawley  ?  " 

"  I  believe  he  was  going  to  ask  when  he  left  the  rebels 
—  possibly  the  regiment  that  this  man  belongs  to." 

"  I'll  go  see  that  man.  Come  with  me.  No,  Hawley,  you 
stay  here  till  I  come  back.  "We'd  better  not  go  together," 
and  Captain  Freeman,  his  suspicions  of  Barney  revived, 
walked  rapidly  toward  the  guards,  muttering  to  himself 
conditional  threats  against  the  negro,  and  entirely  unob- 
servant of  a  dark  form  gliding  through  the  bushes  at  his 
right  and  taking  post  behind  a  tree  in  earshot  of  the  con- 
versation that  followed. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  he  asked  Morgan. 

The  prisoner  was  prepared  and  replied  promptly,  "  John 
Berry,  sir." 

"  I  see  you  are  a  sergeant." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Your  regiment,  if  you  please." 

"  The  First  Virginia,  sir,"  was  the  reply  —  the  action 
was  long  over,  and  Morgan  felt  that  he  was  compromising 
no  interest. 

Thus  far  well  and  good,  thought  Freeman  ;  but  how  from 
inquiry  of  a  military  nature  to  make  a  transition  to  private 
questioning  began  to  trouble  him.  He  felt  that  he  must 
use  great  tact,  else  the  sharp  rebel  would  suspect.  Even 
now,  perhaps,  he  was  on  his  guard. 

"  Brigade  ?  " 

"  Fitzhugh  Lee's." 


202  OLD  SQUIRE 

The  captain  had  gained  no  information  by  his  last  ques- 
tion, for  he  had  already  known,  if  he  had  but  thought  of 
it,  that  the  said  regiment  was  a  part  of  the  said  brigade, 
yet  the  reply  brought  helpful  suggestion  in  regard  to  his 
real  purpose. 

"  Is  General  Fitzhugh  Lee  with  his  brigade  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  he  was  this  morning,  at  least." 

"  But  I  was  told  recently  that  he  had  been  wounded," 
retorted  Freeman,  his  mind  now  on  Squire  so  firmly  that 
he  continued  without  a  pause,  "  Say,  do  you  know  a 
negro  named  Squire  ?  " 

"Squire?  No,  I  don't  know  anybody  by  that  name, 
and  I  know  every  nigger  that  follows  Fitzhugh  Lee's 
brigade."  Morgan  gave  the  answer  very  readily.  He  felt 
pretty  sure  that  Squire's  actual  name  could  not  easily  have 
reached  Freeman's  ears. 

"  And  Barney  ?  Do  you  know  Barney  ?  "  asked  Free- 
man, quickly  seeing  his  chance,  as  he  thought,  to  get  at 
the  kernel  of  his  purpose  without  logical  violence. 

But  Morgan  was  not  to  be  caught  thus  ;  the  leap  from 
Squire  to  Barney  was  apparent  in  its  suddenness. 

The  prisoner  shook  his  head  peculiarly,  as  though  in 
doubt.  "  What  Barney  ?  "  he  asked. 

In  the  rebel's  manner,  Freeman  saw  hesitation,  but  read 
nothing  more  ;  he  paused  a  moment  that  he  might  add 
time  to  the  weight  of  his  words. 

"  Do  you  know  any  Barney  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Morgan,  promptly  ;  "  I  know  more 
than  one  Barney.  Down  in  Virginia,  I  know  a  whole 
family  of  'em." 


UNSTABLE  AS  WATER  203 

"  You  are  talking  about  white  people  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  The  man  I'm  speaking  of  is  a  negro  named  Barney,  and 
nothing  else,  so  far  as  I  know." 

"  Who  does  he  belong  to  ?  "  asked  the  prisoner. 

"  He  is  the  man  who  brought  your  supper  awhile  ago. 
What  do  you  know  about  him  ?  " 

Morgan  was  now  aware  that  suspicion  of  the  negro  had 
induced  Freeman's  visit.  Simply  by  refusing  to  conceal  he 
would  bring  disaster  upon  Barney,  and  for  a  moment  he 
experienced  a  moral  embarrassment  more  intense  than 
he  would  previously  have  supposed  possible  in  connection 
with  an  object  ordinarily  considered  of  paltry  importance. 
But  it  would  not  do  to  hesitate.  To  gain  time  for  decid- 
ing the  ethical  dilemma,  he  could  only  evade. 

"  I  know  that  he  was  not  very  polite  in  his  manner  at 
first,"  he  said  ;  "  but  I  don't  care  any  more  for  that  than  for 
a  dog's  barking  at  me.  You  people  take  our  negroes  and 
set  'em  free,  and  make  fools  of  'em  — " 

"  I'm  not  talking  about  that,"  interrupted  the  captain. 
"  I  want  to  know  if  you  ever  saw  Barney  before  to- 
night." 

"  I  think  I  have,  sir.  Was  he  not  raised  in  Fauquier 
County  ?  " 

"No,  in  Goochland." 

"  Well,  sir,  I'm  not  from  that  county  ;  and  if  he  is  from 
Goochland  —  you  know  it's  not  easy  to  swear  to  every  nig- 
ger you  meet.  I'd  not  like  to  say  positively  that  I  ever 
saw  him.  Anything  wrong  about  him  ?  " 

The  captain  tried  to  read  the  prisoner's  face,  but  there 


204  OLD  SQUIKE 

was  so  little  light  that  he  gave  it  up,  and,  without  reply- 
ing to  Morgan,  went  back  to  his  place. 

"  I  get  nothing  out  of  him,  Hawley,"  he  said ;  "  the  fel- 
low knows  nothing,  or  else  smells  a  rat  and  is  on  his 
guard.  I'm  half  persuaded  you're  right ;  but  what  I  can 
do  more  I  don't  see." 

"  Captain,  let  me  talk  to  Barney  in  your  presence,  if  you 
please." 

"All  right,  call  him  up." 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  Barney  was  ready  for  any 
ordinary  examination  ;  but  armed  though  he  was  with 
knowledge  that  he  was  suspected,  he  was  unprepared  for 
the  first  words  that  Hawley  hurled  at  him. 

"Make  a  clean  breast  of  it  now,  Barney." 

The  negro  was  silent,  wondering,  and  might  have  be- 
trayed himself  through  manifest  hesitation  had  Hawley 
here  ended  his  speech  instead  of  merely  pausing. 

"  Own  up,  man.  We  know  all  about  you.  The  rebel 
has  given  you  away." 

"  I  dunno  what  he's  got  ag'in  me,  Misteh  Hawley.  I 
ain't  neveh  seed  him,  an'  I  don't  know  him,  notheh." 

"  Well,  he  knows  you  ;  and  you  can't  deny  that  you've 
been  with  the  rebels." 

Hawley's  weakening  would  have  been  evident,  even 
though  the  negro  had  been  duller  and  unprepared  ;  the 
descent  from  the  high  plane  upon  which  he  had  cast  his 
first  utterance  was  absurd  in  its  abruptness,  in  its  tone, 
and  in  useless  multiplicity  of  words  :  why  wish  the  negro 
to  confess  if  he  was  already  known  to  be  guilty  ?  Per- 
haps Barney  failed  to  reason  thus  ;  he  felt  the  substance, 
nevertheless. 


UNSTABLE  AS   WATER  205 

"  Yes,  sah,  I  done  told  de  cap'm  dat  dey  cut  me  off  an'  I 
had  to  git  th'ough  'em  de  best  I  could  ;  but  dey  didn't 
try  to  keep  me,  sah.  Dat  man,  what  he  got  to  say  ag'in 
me  ?  Tell  me  what  he  say,"  and  Barney  looked  full  on 
Captain  Freeman,  though  the  words  were  directed  at 
Hawley. 

"Nothing  against  you  except  that  he  knew  you,  or 
thought  so,"  was  the  reply,  feeble  and  uncertain. 

To  Hawley,  Freeman's  disgust  was  not  less  apparent 
than  was  the  negro's  triumph  ;  yet  the  captain  said  merely, 
"Go  back  to  your  place,  Hawley,"  adding  to  Barney, 
"And  you  to  your  work,  sir." 

Barney's  victory  caused  him  no  elation.  He  knew  that 
henceforth  Hawley  would  be  hostile,  and  that  Freeman's 
suspicions,  though  seemingly  quieted,  would  be  renewed 
upon  the  slightest  provocation,  and  he  longed  for  the  time 
when  he  could  turn  his  back  upon  the  Federals  and  upon 
his  dangerous  employment.  But,  whatever  else  may  be 
said  in  derogation  of  the  negro's  character,  ingratitude 
cannot  be  urged  against  it,  and  this  negro  was  no  excep- 
tion to  the  rule.  He  had  overheard  Morgan's  replies  to 
Freeman,  and  he  wished  for  a  way  to  help  the  cap- 
tive, or  at  least  to  show  thankfulness.  A  way  was  given 
him. 

Hawley  went  past  sleeping  men  and  approached  the 
guard  post.  It  was  now  after  ten  o'clock.  The  moon 
had  barely  risen,  but  the  sentinel's  form  was  distinct  as 
he  stood  on  guard  over  the  prisoner.  At  this  instant  a 
clatter  of  hoofs  was  heard  toward  the  east,  and  near  by, 
and  then  voices,  one  of  which  was  clearly  Captain  Free- 


206  OLD   SQUIRE 

man's,  and  Hawley  paused  to  listen,  and  he  was  not  the 
only  one  that  overheard. 

"To  Boonsboro?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  by  midnight  .   .   .  how  many  .  .  .  ? " 

"I  have  only  one." 

"  All  right,  sir  ;  we  can  take  charge  of  him  without 
troubling  you  to  send  a  detail.  We  have  two  other 
prisoners." 

"  Very  well,  I'll  turn  him  over  to  you  .   .   .  Hawley  !  " 

Hawley  turned  and  answered  the  call,  and  began  to  re- 
trace his  steps.  In  another  moment  a  different  voice 
called  "  Hawley  !  "  and  from  a  different  direction.  He 
knew  the  voice  to  be  that  of  the  sentinel  over  the  prisoner  ; 
he  must  not  stop  to  talk  while  the  captain  was  calling. 
But  the  sentinel  persisted,  "  Hawley,  haven't  they  come 
to  get  him  ?  "  violating  military  rule  in  his  eagerness  to 
know  whether  he  should  now  be  rid  of  this  encumbrance, 
the  only  reason  for  his  enforced  watchfulness,  and  in  his 
eagerness  leaning  toward  the  man  whom  he  wished  to 
reach  with  his  voice. 

A  few  moments  passed  and  Hawley  came  back,  leading 
the  way  for  three  horsemen. 

"  You  are  devilish  impatient,  Jackson  ;  what  do  you 
mean  by  hollerin'  so  at  me  ?  Couldn't  you  wait  decently 
a  minute  ?  Where's  the  sergeant  ?  " 

The  sergeant  rose  in  his  place  some  yards  away  and 
came  forward.  Morgan  could  see  him  rub  his  eyes,  and 
saw  two  horsemen  with  another  rider  behind  each  of  them, 
and  he  knew  that  he  himself  was  the  chosen  double  to  the 
third. 


UNSTABLE  AS  WATER  207 

"  Sergeant,"  continued  Hawley,  "  these  men  are  to 
take  charge  of  the  prisoner  according  to  the  captain's 
orders." 

"All  right  —  glad  to  hear  it.     Take  him  right  now?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  one  of  the  mounted  men.  "  Here,  Frame, 
take  him  up  behind  you." 

"  Get  up,"  said  the  sergeant,  and  touched  the  prisoner 
with  his  foot.  "Give  me  a  receipt,"  he  added,  and  the 
horseman  began  to  write. 

Morgan  moved  uneasily  about,  as  though  he  was  hardly 
awake.  O'Donnell  was  snoring  heavily  by  his  side. 

"  Get  up,  I  say,"  said  the  sergeant  in  louder  tones. 

Morgan  rose  and  looked  about  him  in  the  stupid 
manner  of  one  that  has  been  rudely  and  but  partly  awak- 
ened. 

"  Johnny,  you're  to  go  with  these  men.  .  .  .  Jackson, 
you're  relieved." 

A  horseman  leaned  over  to  grasp  Morgan  by  the  arm 
.  .  .  Jackson  was  walking  cheerfully  away  —  and  now 
Hawley  started  also  .  .  .  the  sergeant  had  discreetly  given 
room  to  the  horses. 

"  Give  him  a  lift,  Sergeant,"  begged  the  horseman,  in 
the  act  of  bending  over  ;  "here's  your  receipt." 

The  prisoner  suddenly  fell  to  the  ground,  and  as  sud- 
denly rose  again  with  the  horse  between  himself  and  the 
sergeant,  having  dashed  under  the  animal's  belly.  In  an 
instant  he  was  gone. 

"  Hell  and  damnation ! "  cried  the  horseman.  "  Why'n't 
you  hold  him  ?  You  are  responsible  for  this." 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  the  sergeant,  coolly  and  quietly  ; 


208  OLD  SQUIRE 

"I  delivered  him  to  you;  you  are  the  responsible  party 
—  not  I." 

"  Pursue  him ! "  cried  the  horseman,  almost  in  frenzy, 
more  perhaps  because  of  the  laugh  raised  by  his  two  com- 
panions than  because  of  the  loss  itself. 

"Pursue  him  yourself  if  you  want  anybody  to  pursue. 
I'm  done  with  it,  except  to  report  it,"  and  the  sergeant 
walked  toward  Captain  Freeman's  place. 

Morgan  had  not  run  far  ;  he  knew  too  little  of  direc- 
tions, for  the  sky  was  hidden  by  the  trees  above  him,  and 
he  must  not  risk  running  wrong  ;  he  sank  to  the  ground 
and  listened. 

Behind  him  there  was  noise,  but  no  great  noise  ;  he 
thought  it  came  from  Freeman's  company  ;  the  sounds 
indicated  preparation  to  march,  yet  there  had  been  no 
bugle.  Soon  there  was  another  noise  —  a  low  hissing 
sound  near  him  —  which  at  first  he  knew  not  how  to 
construe,  but  it  grew  in  clearness  and  intensity  until  he 
recognized  the  warning  "  Sh-h-h ! "  prolonged  and  repeated. 
But  toward  whom  was  the  signal  directed?  Doubtless 
footmen  were  searching  for  the  fugitive,  and  one  had 
stopped  another  with  the  command  to  hearken  .  .  .  yet 
would  the  sound  be  repeated  ?  Why  noisily  bid  a  com- 
panion be  silent  when  he  is  already  silent  ?  for  Morgan 
heard  no  noise  near  him  except  this  one  persistent  grow- 
ing "  Sh-h-h !  " 

The  fugitive  wondered  why  the  guards  —  he  was  as  yet 
not  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  from  the  post  — 
were  making  no  noise  of  pursuit  or  search.  He  could  not 
know  that  Freeman  had  received  orders  to  march.  Could 


UNSTABLE  AS  WATER  209 

it  be  that  he  was  surrounded,  and  that  they  felt  so  confi- 
dent of  his  falling  into  Federal  hands  that  they  were  refus- 
ing to  make  needless  effort  ?  No  ;  such  could  not  be  the 
case,  for  if  he  were  environed  by  foes,  his  guards  would 
shout  and  warn  the  troops  around  lest  he  slip  through  them 
in  the  darkness.  Yet,  could  he  believe  that  no  effort  to 
retake  him  was  being  made?  that  his  escape  had  been 
taken  for  granted  by  his  enemies  ?  Surely  not,  unless  — 
unless  there  was  for  him  some  peculiar  advantage  of  the 
ground,  something  to  make  the  Federals  despair  of  success 
—  and  with  this  thought  Morgan  raised  his  head  as  noise- 
lessly as  possible  and  tried  to  look  about  him,  hoping  rather 
than  believing  that  he  should  see  near  him  a  ravine  or  other 
help  that  would  give  conclusion  to  his  doubts.  He  saw  a 
man  squatted  less  than  five  paces  distant. 

Morgan  did  not  lower  his  head.  He  reasoned  that  the 
man  knew  of  his  presence,  or  did  not ;  in  either  case 
additional  attempt  at  secrecy  was  without  profit,  in  the 
first  ineffectual,  in  the  second  needless,  for  he  knew  that 
he  was  well  concealed  already  ;  he  looked  at  the  man 
squatted  near  a  bushy  tree.  Again  came  the  signal  for, 
silence  —  and  then  he  heard  a  rattling  sound  in  the  leaves 
at  his  right  knee,  and  knew  that  a  missile  had  been  thrown, 

It  was  now  impossible  for  Morgan  to  believe  that  his 
presence  was  unknown,  and  almost  equally  difficult  for 
him  to  believe  that  the  man  before  him  was  hostile  ; 
yet  the  absurdity  of  admitting  the  hope  of  aid  at  this 
place  and  time  was  so  manifest  that  for  the  moment  confi- 
dence in  his  own  sight  and  hearing  was  shaken.  Had  he 
seen  aright  ?  Had  he  heard  aright  ?  Was  that  object 


210  OLD  SQUIRE 

before  him  really  a  man  ?  Was  it  not,  rather,  some  bush 
or  stump  distorted  by  his  fears  ?  Had  he  heard  a  pebble 
or  stick  thrown  toward  him  ?  Had  he  not,  rather,  heard 
the  noise  of  some  decayed  acorn,  some  rotten  twig,  as  it 
fell  to  the  ground  ?  Had  he  heard  a  voice  uttering  a  cau- 
tion, or  had  he  heard  the  swish  of  a  bough,  the  rubbing  of 
branches  against  each  other  ?  Yet  it  was  but  for  a  moment 
that  he  thus  doubted  —  the  next  moment  he  knew  that  the 
man  near  him  was  the  negro  Barney,  the  recognition  being 
due  to  a  whispered  declaration  coming  from  Barney  him- 
self. 

"Jest  be  quiet,  sah  ;  dis  is  me." 

Instantly  renewed  fears  and  doubts  swept  through  Mor- 
gan's mind.  This  negro  was,  to  certain  knowledge,  a 
deceiver  ;  he  had  been  with  Squire  and  with  the  Confed- 
erates, but  had  gone  to  the  Yankees  and  had  denied  his 
former  relation.  The  sergeant,  ignorant  of  the  fact  that 
Barney  had  overheard  Freeman's  questions  and  the  replies 
thereunto,  had  not  the  smallest  thought  of  any  claim  upon 
the  negro's  gratitude  ;  and  so  confirmed  was  his  belief  in 
the  falseness  of  the  man,  confirmed  by  his  knowledge  that 
Freeman  himself  was  full  of  suspicion,  that  he  refused  to 
respond,  and  thought  rather  of  sudden  flight  than  of  await- 
ing the  issue.  But  Barney  was  by  instinct  no  mean  logi- 
cian ;  he  knew  and  felt  that  Morgan  could  not  be  expected 
to  trust  him,  and  appreciated  the  necessity  for  acting 
quickly. 

"  Don't  be  afeahed,  sah,"  he  whispered.  "  I'm  yo' 
frien' ;  I  heahed  what  shu  said  to  de  cap'm,  sah." 

"  Are  you  going  to  help  me  ?  "  whispered  the  soldier. 


UNSTABLE   AS  WATER  211 

"  Yes,  sah,  if  I  can  ;  but  I  ain't  got  much  time.  De 
company  is  awdehed  to  mahch,  an'  I  got  to  git  back 
mighty  quick.  You  mus'  go  dis  a-way,  sah,"  thrusting 
his  arm  out  almost  in  contact  with  the  white  man's  face. 

"  How  far  do  these  woods  stretch  ?  " 

"  Not  mo'n  a  quauta',  sah  ;  an'  when  you  git  to  de  aige 
of  'em  you  can  see  de  big  road." 

"  What  big  road  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,  sah,  whah  it  goes  to." 

"  Troops  over  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sah,  awn  de  yotheh  side  ;  but  shu  nee'n'  to  git 
awn  de  yotheh  side.  Jest  stay  awn  dis  side,  an'  keep  awn 
down  de  aige  o'  de  fiel'." 

"  I'm  greatly  obliged  to  you,  Barney." 

"  I  done  all  I  can  do  fuh  you,  sah  ;  you  helped  me  out, 
an'  I  ain't  a-gwine  to  go  back  awn  sich  as  dat." 

"  Why  didn't  you  stick  to  Squire  ?  " 

"  Unc  Squiah,  he  jest  went  his  way,  sah,  an'  I  jest  went 
my  way.  I  dunno  what  I'd  ha'  done  if  I  hadn't  met  up 
wi'  Cap'm  Freeman  ag'in.  I've  be'n  with  him  befo'e,  sah. 
Now,  sah,  I've  got  to  git  back,  'caze  dey'll  be  a-gwine  f'om 
heah.  Good-by,  sah." 

Morgan  did  not  wait ;  he  started  in  the  direction  given 
him,  fearing  longer  delay  —  not  that  he  doubted  the  negro's 
faith  in  regard  to  himself,  but  because  time  was  valuable. 
He  succeeded  in  reaching  the  edge  of  the  woods,  and  then 
crept  south  on  the  east  side  of  the  big  road.  But  Barney's 
knowledge  of  the  country  and  the  troops  that  occupied  it 
referred  to  a  very  small  area,  and  Morgan  soon  found  his 
way  blocked  by  a  great  cavalry  bivouac  extending  far 


212  OLD  SQUIRE 

across  his  path.  He  endeavoured  to  flank  it  by  going  to 
his  left,  and  might  have  succeeded  in  achieving  his  escape 
had  not  the  bugles  rang  out  "  To  horse  "  in  every  direc- 
tion around  him.  He  soon  saw  himself  surrounded  by 
moving  men  and  horses,  and  he  tried  to  hide  and  wait  till 
the  coast  was  clear,  attempting  the  impossible.  Men  passed 
near  him  without  speaking,  but  the  thing  could  not  last  — 
a  few  minutes  went  by,  and  again  he  was  in  the  hands  of 
his  enemies. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

WAYS   CONVERGING 

"  Is  the  coast  clear  ?    None  but  friends  ?  " 

—  GOLDSMITH. 

MORE  than  half  the  night  was  gone ;  the  moon,  chang- 
ing to  its  last  quarter,  was  fully  two  hours  high. 

Morgan's  new  captors  were  of  Buford's  division,  which 
had  retired  from  the  fight  near  Williamsport,  and  was 
now  beginning  its  movement  toward  Kilpatrick's  left.  In 
the  recent  combat  Buford's  people  had  been  sorely  tried  ; 
the  company  into  whose  clutches  Morgan  had  stumbled 
had  suffered  greatly,  the  men  being  held  too  long  to  their 
work  even  after  their  cartridges  were  exhausted.  Its  com- 
mander was  not  in  the  best  of  humour. 

"  How  did  you  get  here,  sir  ?  "  he  asked  sharply,  when 
Morgan  was  halted  before  him. 

The  question  brought  with  it  the  apprehension  of  a  pos- 
sible danger  not  hitherto  thought  of  ;  this  Confederate, 
unarmed,  in  the  midst  of  moving  enemies,  was  peculiar. 
Yet  a  moment's  reflection  assured  the  captive  that,  in  full 
gray  uniform,  he  had  no  reason  to  fear  being  accused  as 
a  spy. 

"  I  was  captured,  sir,"  was  the  simple  reply,  given  in 
tones  respectful  and  low. 

213 


214  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Can't  I  see  that  ?  But  how  the  hell  did  you  manage 
to  get  here  in  order  to  be  captured  ?  " 

"  Straggling  and  hiding  out,  sir." 

"  Where  are  your  arms  ?  " 

"I  had  to  throw  them  away,  sir,  and  to  abandon  my 
horse ;  he  was  taken  before  I  was." 

"  You  were  not  in  the  fight  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  I  heard  cannon  in  two  directions,  but  I  saw 
no  fighting."  The  declaration,  literally  taken,  was  true. 

"  Your  command  ?  " 

Morgan  answered  freely  and  fully,  telling  the  whole 
inclusive  organization. 

The  officer  ended  the  matter  by  giving  the  prisoner  in 
charge  of  two  men  whom  he  ordered  to  ride  hard  toward 
Boonsboro,  that  they  might  overtake  a  batch  of  prisoners 
sent  back  under  guard  earlier ;  they  were  to  deliver  the 
prisoner  and  return  forthwith  to  their  company. 

"But  if  we  don't  catch  up  with  'em,  Lieutenant?" 
asked  one  of  the  men. 

"Then  turn  him  over  to  the  first  officer  you  find  in 
authority.  You  may  be  compelled  to  go  as  far  as  Boons- 
boro." 

Morgan  was  made  to  mount  behind  one  of  the  men,  and 
the  second  trooper  followed,  his  horse's  head  at  the  other's 
tail.  The  leader  struck  a  trot  and  soon  found  his  road, 
moving  eastward.  In  the  road,  however,  the  trot  was 
necessarily  abandoned,  for  the  mud  was  above  the  fetlocks 
and  the  foundation  was  slippery. 

The  great  rains  that  began  on  the  night  of  the  4th  had 
proved  Lee's  advantage  and  later  would  prove  to  be  his 


WAYS  CONVERGING  215 

peril.  The  Maryland  mud,  coupled  with  uncertainty,  pre- 
vented the  swift  pursuit  which  the  President,  in  agony  of 
suspense,  urged  upon  his  general.  Lincoln's  belief  that 
the  rebels  could  not  move  more  rapidly  than  the  Federals 
was  borne  out  neither  by  facts  nor  by  valid  theory.  In 
retreating,  Lee  had  one  purpose  ;  in  advancing,  Meade 
must  have  many ;  besides,  the  retreat  was  conducted  with 
infantry  leading,  cavalry  marching  in  rear;  the  advance 
necessarily  was  in  reverse  order,  so  that  the  Confederate 
infantry  had  the  advantage  of  roads  wet  enough  in  all 
conscience,  but  not  cut  and  churned  into  the  loblolly 
through  which  Neill's  division  was  forced  to  splatter  be- 
hind their  own  and  their  enemy's  cavalry.  So  the  bulk 
of  Meade's  infantry  was  diverted  from  a  direct  pursuit  of 
the  Confederates,  and  made  a  flank  march  to  Middletown 
through  mud  and  slush,  a  slow  march  and  painful  because 
of  greater  destitution  than  the  Union  troops  often  experi- 
enced. Though  Buford  and  Kilpatrick  had  marched  with 
sufficient  rapidity  to  bring  Stuart  to  action,  they  had  not 
succeeded  in  defeating  him.  Stuart  and  the  mud  gained 
Lee  the  great  position  of  Hagerstown  where  the  swollen 
Potomac  held  him  for  a  week. 

"Say,  Locke,"  said  the  rear-guard,  "you  lead  out  o' 
this.  Git  out  there  on  the  right.  Dam'd  if  ever  I  saw 
such  a  mess." 

"  How  the  hell  you  expect  me  to  climb  that  fence  ?  " 

They  were  in  a  closed  lane,  on  the  left  a  fence  of  stone, 
on  the  right,  one  of  rails.  The  progress  was  the  slowest 
walk. 

"Well,  we   might  jest  as  well  go  on  back,"  said  the 


216  OLD  SQUIRE 

rear.  "Them  fellers  is  five  mile  ahead  before  now,  an' 
a-gainin'  ground.  If  they  got  any  sense  at  all,  it's 
more'n  we  got,  an'  they  tuck  to  the  hard  ground,  you  can 
bet  your  bottom  dollar  on  that.  Say,  Locke,  you  halt." 

"What  for?" 

"  You  halt,  an'  I'll  show  you.  Look  out  for  that  Johnny 
now,  an'  I'm  a-goin'  to  let  down  a  gap." 

"  All  right,  Sam  ;  that's  talkin'." 

Sam  rode  to  the  rail  fence  and  speedily  lowered  it  so 
that  the  horses  could  step  over. 

The  march  was  now  better,  yet  the  hoofs  sank  into 
the  soil  of  a  ploughed  field.  The  leader  guided  right  and 
left,  seeking  avoidance  of  the  bog,  and  soon  cried  out, 
"  Struck  a  good  un,  Sam,"  as  the  hoofs  rang  upon  a  stony, 
unploughed  path  stretching  directly  downhill  before 
them. 

The  hill  in  front,  wooded,  obscured  the  moon.  Locke's 
path  as  yet  had  diverged  but  little  from  the  fence,  and  it 
was  true  policy  to  keep  this  path  until  its  course  should 
change.  The  horses  trotted. 

The  prisoner  had  not  spoken,  neither  had  his  guards 
addressed  him  a  word.  These  were  three  veterans ;  curi- 
osity as  to  unknown  individuals  was  not  a  strong  point 
with  any  of  the  three. 

The  woods  on  the  hill  were  now  distant  but  little  more 
than  a  stone's  throw.  Locke  cried  back,  "  Guess  you'll 
have  to  let  down  another  gap,  Sam." 

But  a  moment  more  and  he  brought  up  at  a  stone  fence. 

"  I'll  be  dam'd  !  Let's  go  to  the  left  an'  git  in  the 
big  road  again." 


WAYS  CONVERGING  217 

But  his  horse  floundered.  Sam  tried  it ;  his  horse 
sank  above  the  knees  and  was  made  to  scramble  out. 

The  weary  horses  stood  still,  and  for  the  time  neither  man 
spoke  ;  both  were  debating  one  and  the  same  question. 

"  Be  damned  if  I  go  back,"  said  Locke  at  last. 

"  Then  we  got  to  go  on  down  this  rock  fence  till  we  git 
some  place." 

"  No,  sir !  Cock  your  pistol,  Sam,  an'  I'll  manage  this 
business." 

The  leader  dismounted,  and  Morgan  could  hear  behind 
him  the  ominous  click  that  had  been  commanded  ;  yet  he 
had  hope  .  .  .  but  it  was  gone  in  the  next  instant  as  he 
saw  Locke  carefully  thrust  his  left  hand  through  his 
twisted  bridle  reins. 

Locke  was  now  standing  at  the  fence  ;  he  gave  a  strong 
push  against  a  topmost  stone  ;  its  outward  fall  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  loud  splash.  He  leaned  against  the  fence, 
peering  over.  The  shadows  of  the  wood  on  the  hill 
were  receding  toward  the  east.  Locke's  head  was  in 
the  moonlight. 

"Sam,  I'll  swear  the's  a  bluff  here  ten  foot." 

The  rear  gave  no  response. 

Locke  remounted.  The  rear-guard  returned  his  pistol 
to  its  holster. 

The  leader  urged  his  horse  to  the  right,  finding  better 
ground.  Now  and  then  he  rode  to  the  fence  and  looked. 
Men  and  horses  were  in  the  moonlight.  It  must  have 
been  almost  two  o'clock,  Morgan  thought,  little  more 
than  an  hour  until  daybreak. 

The  fence  at  their  left  stretched  southward.     Morgan 


218  OLD  SQUIRE 

could  not  believe  that  this  course  would  be  kept  long  ; 
his  guards  would  soon  make  other  decision  unless  an 
opening  should  be  seen.  The  prisoner,  weary,  almost 
hopeless,  found  himself  debating  what  he  should  have 
done  and  should  yet  do  in  Locke's  place. 

There  came  a  halt.  Locke  was  again  peering  over  the 
fence. 

"  What  you  see  now  ?  "  asked  Sam. 

"  I  believe  we  might  risk  it. " 

Morgan  himself  could  see,  beyond  the  fence,  the  flat 
sandy  margin  of  a  narrow  stream. 

Locke  dismounted,  bidding  his  comrade  guard  the  pris- 
oner. Now  the  stones  fell  rapidly  and  made  no  splashing 
sound.  In  two  minutes  the  passage  had  been  effected. 
Locke  went  forward  afoot,  leading  his  horse  down  the 
stream  to  the  right,  searching  for  a  safe  place  to  ford. 
The  stream  wound  this  way  and  that. 

Again  Locke  halted.  "  Guess  we  can  make  it,"  he  said. 
"  Won't  do  to  go  on  this  way  all  night ;  already  lost  half 
a  mile." 

He  mounted  and  headed  his  horse  into  the  water,  which 
proved  of  little  depth. 

On  the  eastern  side  the  party  turned  left,  in  order  to 
regain  the  road.  After  a  few  yards  they  struck  into  a 
bridle-path,  which  Locke  began  at  once  to  follow,  for  it 
seemed  to  stretch  due  eastward  over  the  hills,  and  he  knew 
not  what  marsh  might  stop  him  if  he  should  continue  to 
ascend  the  flat.  They  were  making  good  speed  ;  and 
soon  the  path  joined  a  wider  one,  and  Locke  urged  for- 
ward yet  faster,  believing  his  course  correct  —  merely 


WATS  CONVERGING  218 

believing,  for  zigzagging  here  in  the  wooded  hills  allowed 
no  real  knowledge  of  this  road. 

On  top  of  the  hill  the  leader  paused,  for  the  moon  was 
now  at  their  left  oblique,  while  the  road  turned  sharply  to 
the  right. 

"  By  God  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  now  ?  " 

"  Goin'  straight  southwest,"  he  sighed.  "  And  I'll  bet 
you  that  ever  since  we  left  that  dam  fence  we've  been 
a-goin'  round  and  round." 

The  horses  stood  motionless,  with  drooped  heads  ;  they 
had  had  but  little  rest  in  the  past  two  days.  Their 
shadows  were  almost  in  the  road  at  their  front. 

Sam  spoke  :  "  Locke,  seems  to  me  this  road's  just 
a-turnin'  up  to  some  house  on  the  hill.  S'posin'  we  ride 
on  a  piece  an'  see  ?  " 

For  lack  of  better  Locke  started,  and  to  his  great  joy 
soon  proved  the  soundness  of  his  comrade's  conjecture. 
They  rode  up  to  the  gate  of  a  large  dwelling. 

"  Hello  !  hello  !  hello  !  "  shouted  the  leader,  at  each 
successive  syllable  ascending  the  scale  and  exerting  more 
his  lungs. 

"Dam  it,  Locke,  if  the's  a  gang  o'  rebs  in  two  mile, 
you'll  bring  'em  down  on  us  !  " 

"  Hello  !  hello  !  hello  !  "  Locke  repeated,  as  though 
Sam's  comment  was  utterly  unworthy  of  serious  thought. 

Footsteps  were  heard,  and  then  the  noise  of  an  opening 
door. 

"  Hello  !     What  chu  want  ?  " 

"Come  out  here." 


220  OLD  SQUIRE 

"Who  are  you?" 

"Buford's  cavalry." 

A  man  came  forward  into  the  moonlight — came  hastily. 

"Boys,  I  tell  you  right  now,  you  better  be  keerful." 

"  What  about  ?     Anything  rotten  round  here  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  tell  you  right  now,  you're  not  as  safe  as  you 
might  be.  The'  was  some  men  passed  by  here  not  half  an 
hour  ago,  an'  I  don't  know  their  names." 

"  How  many  ?  " 

"Two  — two's  all  I  see." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  guess  they're  all  right ;  anyway,  two  men 
don't  count.  Which  way'd  they  go  ?  " 

"  East.  One  of  'em  he  comes  on  to  the  porch  an'  wakes 
me  up ;  an'  he  was  so  quiet  like  about  it  'at  I  knowed  he 
was  skeered,  an'  I  says  to  myself,  'You  must  be  a  long 
ways  f'om  home,'  says  I ;  an'  then  when  he  asks  me  ques- 
tions, I  see  at  once  'at  he  wants  to  know  too  much." 

"  Make  out  his  clothes  ?  " 

"  No,  only  I  see  'at  he  had  a  jacket  on  'stead  of  a  sack 
like  your'n ;  an'  then  they  started  fust  one  way,  an'  then 
they  don't  go  not  more'n  ten  rod  before  here  they  comes 
a-ridin'  back  an'  goes  on  east ;  an'  then  I  says  to  myself, 
'You  two  fellers  is  rebs,  an'  I  can  see  it  by  your  pore 
bosses,'  says  I." 

"  Well,"  says  Locke,  "  let  'em  go.  I  guess  they'd  be 
willin'  to  let  us  pass  providin'  we  were  willin'.  I  want  to 
know  how  to  get  to  Boonsboro." 

"  Go  this  way,"  pointing  toward  the  back  track ;  "  a 
mile  from  here  you'll  strike  the  big  road.  No  way  to  put 
you  out  ;  all  you  got  to  do  is  just  stay  on  top  o'  the 


WAYS  CONVERGING  221 

range  an'  just  foller  the  plain  road,  don't  matter  how  it 
turns.  How'd  the  fight  go,  up  higher  ?  " 

"  Went  wrong.  Johnnies  had  all  the  luck.  Say,  where 
does  this  end  o'  this  dam  road  go  to,  anyhow  ?  " 

"  Winds  about  over  the  range  and  strikes  for  Harper's 
Ferry,  but  not  all  at  oncet." 

"  Harper's  Ferry  ?     Our  folks  there,  or  the  rebs  ?  " 

"  Our'n,  I  hear  ;  but  I  hear  a  heap  o'  things  that  I 
don't  count  for  Gospel." 

They  turned  back.  Locke  had  no  desire  to  see  Harper's 
Ferry,  even  though  he  were  sure  to  find  it  in  the  hands  of 
his  own  people,  who  were  indeed  at  this  time  about  to 
seize  it.  General  Kenly  would  march  at  sunrise  for 
Maryland  Heights,  which  commanded  the  town.  The 
Federals  had  already  sent  scouting  parties  in  that  direc- 
tion, who  had  reported  the  coast  clear  ;  but  they  failed  to 
see  and  intercept  some  of  Mosby's  men,  who,  sent  into 
Maryland  below  Leesburg,  had  been  cut  off  by  the  swollen 
Potomac  and  had  been  forced  to  steal  their  way  at  night, 
by  twos  and  threes,  up  the  river,  making  for  Lee's  army 
on  its  retreat.  On  this  night  Usher  West  and  Tom 
Baxter  had  reached  the  range. 

"  Hush  !  "  says  Tom,  bringing  his  horse  to  a  stand. 

Far  in  front  there  were  sounds,  but  so  indistinct  that 
the  two  could  only  know  that  a  man  was  speaking.  Again 
the  sound  was  heard  ;  then  there  was  deep  silence  that 
continued  long. 

"  How  far,  you  think  ?  "  asked  West. 

"A  quarter,  I  reckon." 

"  Better  wait  awhile,  hadn't  we  ?  " 


222  OLD  SQUIRE 

But  at  once  another  sound  was  heard  —  that  of  a  horse's 
footfall. 

"  Coming  ?  "  whispered  Baxter. 

"  Yes." 

They  dismounted  and  hid  in  the  thicket ;  there  Baxter 
remained,  and  West  returned  toward  the  roadside.  Be- 
fore him  was  an  irregular  open  space  strewn  with  great 
rocks  and  low  straggling  bushes.  West  lay  behind  a 
bush  and  watched  the  open.  Sounds  of  hoofs  were  clear 
and  sharp,  more  than  one  horse  coming. 

A  minute  later  two  horsemen  came  into  the  moonlight. 
They  were  riding  abreast,  in  a  slow  walk,  perhaps  wary, 
possibly  weary.  They  came  on  until  they  were  against 
Usher's  hiding-place — thirty  feet  from  the  road. 

"  Hello  !  heUo  !  hello  !  " 

The  voice  was  clear,  yet  it  came  from  a  distance,  per- 
haps the  fourth  of  a  mile,  for  the  night  was  very  still. 
The  two  horsemen  halted  and  turned  their  heads,  as 
though  to  listen. 

"Hello!  hello!  hello  !  " 

"  Yanks,"  said  one  of  the  horsemen. 

"  I'm  a-thinkin'  so  too,  George,"  said  the  other. 

West  rose  to  his  feet.  At  once  two  pistols  were  levelled 
upon  him. 

"  I'm  yours  truly,  boys,"  he  said,  laughing  ;  "  Usher 
West."  " 

"  What  !  "  exclaimed  two  voices. 

"  Yes ;  come  on  down  here  in  the  woods  ;  I've  got 
Baxter  with  me." 

In  the  thicket  reciprocal  explanations  followed,  showing 


WAYS  CONVERGING  228 

on  the  one  part  that  Sency  and  Lewis  bad  been  sent  out 
by  their  colonel  to  examine  the  ground  between  Buford's 
left  and  the  Potomac. 

"It's  all  clear  below  here  for  two  or  three  miles, 
George,"  says  Baxter;  "we've  just  come  up  that  way." 

"  And  what  you  fellers  goin'  to  do  now  ?  "  says  Joe. 

"  Got  to  go  up  the  river  till  we  can  get  across.  They 
say  Lee's  making  for  Williamsport ;  and  if  that's  true, 
we've  got  to  go  there  too." 

Sency  decided  to  turn  back.  He  must  make  as  early 
report  as  possible  ;  besides,  it  seemed  useless  to  go  on 
—  he  had  already  found  that  the  Federal  cavalry  were 
leaning  north  rather  than  south. 

The  shouts  that  the  men  had  heard  were  no  more  re- 
peated. The  four  men  rode  westward,  Sency  and  West 
leading. 

"  Know  the  road  ?  "  says  Usher. 

"  Yes,  just  come  over  it.  Big  house  up  here  a  piece. 
We  stopped  there,  but  the  man  gave  us  nothing.  Reckon 
we'd  better  be  sly ;  I  think  that's  just  about  where  we 
heard  that  hello  business  a  little  while  ago." 

"How's  all  the  boys?"  asked  Usher.  "How's  Arm- 
strong and  Morgan  ?  " 

"  Both  in  bad  luck,  but  might  be  worse.  Charley's  got 
a  sword  cut  on  his  head,  and  Morgan's  missing  since  late 
yesterday;  afraid  they've  got  him." 

"  Armstrong  get  it  bad  ?  " 

"  Don't  know.  Doctor  said  he  wasn't  sure  any  bones 
had  been  cracked,  and  if  they  hadn't  he'd  be  all  right  in 
no  time,  if  he  could  just  keep  his  head  cool  in  this  hot 


224  OLD  SQUIRE 

weather  ;  but  then  he  didn't  know.  They  put  him  in  a 
wagon,  and  I  reckon  he's  at  Williamsport  by  this  time. 
Old  Squire's  with  him,"  and  Sency  gave  a  great  yawn  of 
sleepiness. 

"  Say,  Sency,  did  you  know  that  Morgan's  brother  is  at 
our  house  ?  " 

"  At  your  house  ?  Why,  no ;  how  did  that  happen  ? 
I  thought  they  were  taking  him  to  Washington." 
Another  yawn. 

"  Yanks  couldn't  get  through  with  the  ambulance  ; 
you  know  they'd  just  found  out  about  Stuart's  march, 
and  didn't  know  what  to  do.  They  could  ha'  got 
through,  but  didn't  know  it,  so  Morgan  was  left 
with  Father ;  he's  got  a  Yankee  surgeon  staying  with 
him." 

"  And  how  is  he  ?  " 

"  Better,  so  the  doctor  says,  but  he  hadn't  said  a  word 
up  to  the  night  I  left." 

"  When  was  that  ?  Ah  !  "  and  Sency's  yawn  was 
stifled  in  an  exclamation. 

"  Sh  —  "  whispers  West,  and  halts. 

"  I  hear  it,"  says  Sency. 

"  How  far,  you  think  ?  " 

"  Close  by,  and  coming ;  between  here  and  that  house 
we  passed.  Don't  you  think  so,  Joe  ?  " 

"Boun'  to  be." 

"  How  many  do  you  make  'em  ?  " 

Sency  sprang  from  his  horse  and  put  his  ear  to  the 
ground.  An  instant  more  and  he  had  remounted. 

"  Two,"  he  said. 


WAYS  CONVERGING  225 

"  Suppose  we  gobble  'em  up,"  suggested  Mosby's  man, 
professionally. 

"  I'm  willing.  I  don't  want  the  men,  but  my  horse  is 
in  need  of  repairs,  and  I'm  willing  to  swap  sight  unseen." 

Sency  took  command.  He  posted  Usher  West  on  the 
south  of  the  road,  Baxter  and  Lewis  on  the  right,  all  in 
the  bushes,  while  he  remained,  sitting  his  horse,  in  the 
open  road. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

BACK  TOWARD   LOUDOUN 

"  If  they  come  off  safe,  call  their  deliverance  a  miracle." 

—  ADDISON. 

THE  two  Federals,  with  their  prisoner,  were  making 
good  headway  on  the  best  road  they  had  yet  found,  and 
were  nearing  the  end  of  their  outgoing  journey  —  a  mile 
more,  they  had  been  told,  would  put  them  in  the  main 
road.  In  a  little  while  they  would  turn  over  their 
charge  and  then  start  on  the  return.  As  yet  there  was 
no  sign  of  day. 

The  prisoner,  actually  asleep,  his  head  resting  against 
Locke's  neck,  was  roused  by  the  abrupt  jerk  with  which 
the  guard  brought  his  horse  to  a  stand. 

"  What's  up  ?  "  says  Sam. 

Morgan,  dimly  conscious,  at  first  awakening,  of  sudden 
perplexity  in  the  manner  of  his  guards,  quickly  became 
alert.  He  peered  over  Locke's  shoulder.  In  front,  some 
fifty  yards  away,  stood  a  motionless  horseman  square  in 
the  road. 

"  Don't  you  see  ?  "  asked  Locke. 

Sam  changed  position  a  foot  or  two,  and,  as  his  horse 
moved,  he  thought  he  heard  a  noise  in  the  brush  at  the 

226 


BACK  TOWARD  LOUDOUN  227 

i 

left ;  but  his  attention  was  distracted  at  once  from  this 
noise  by  seeing  the  single  horseman  begin  to  turn  as 
though  he  intended  flight. 

Locke's  first  thought  had  been  that  the  man  in  his  front 
was  a  sentinel,  posted  by  whatever  Federal  command  had 
camped  at  Boonsboro ;  he  had  expected  a  challenge, 
which  would  have  been  highly  welcome  to  his  ears  ;  now, 
seeing  the  man  begin  to  retire,  suspicions  assailed  him. 
Of  course,  in  these  parts,  chances  were  great  that  the 
man  was  of  the  right  colour  —  perhaps  he  was  a  Federal 
scout  willing  to  compromise,  choosing  to  slip  away  rather 
than  run  the  risk  of  capture  by  two  men  whose  degree  of 
unfriendliness  could  not  be  accurately  estimated  at  fifty 
yards  under  a  half-moon.  At  any  rate,  the  man  had  be- 
gun to  retreat,  and  Locke  had  no  objection  to  such  move- 
ment on  the  part  of  the  unknown.  Locke  had  drawn  his 
pistol,  and  he  still  held  it  as  he  again  rode  on. 

But  the  singular  horseman  had  made  less  than  a  hundred 
feet  before  he  halted  ;  he  turned  his  horse  and  faced  the 
Federals  once  more. 

"  Who  comes  there  ?  "  cried  the  stranger. 

Locke  had  now  heard  the  wished-for  challenge,  yet  he 
felt  a  cold  shiver  run  from  the  centre  of  his  spine  in  con- 
trary directions  and  back  —  not  at  the  words,  or  at  the 
tones,  but  merely  at  the  low  pitch  of  the  man's  voice. 
For  an  infinitesimal  moment  he  considered.  The  reply 
to  a  challenge  should  be  immediate  ;  but  Locke  was  not 
thoroughly  prompt.  Never  in  his  previous  experience  had 
he  been  challenged  in  a  voice  so  little  above  a  whisper  ; 
yet  he  must  speak,  and  he  opened  his  lips  ;  but  before  he 


228  OLD  SQUIRE 

had  made  a  sound  there  came  to  him  a  repetition,  nay 
more,  three  repetitions  of  the  challenge. 

"  Who  comes  there  ?  " 

Right,  left,  and  rear,  the  low  voices  had  sounded. 

Sam  turned,  and  saw  a  horseman  blocking  his  way. 
From  both  sides  came  the  noise  of  hoofs,  sounds  hardly 
heard  in  the  greater  noise  of  rustling  leaves  and  boughs. 

Morgan  threw  his  arms  around  Locke.  "  Better  take  it 
quietly,"  he  said  ;  "  you've  treated  me  well  enough,  and 
I'll  speak  a  good  word  for  you."  Then  he  called  out, 
"  Come  on,  George  !  "  for  he  had  recognized  Sency's  voice. 

There  was  no  clamorous  rejoicing  by  the  rebels  ;  nei- 
ther, on  the  other  part,  was  there  any  weak  display  of 
sorrow.  A  veteran  cavalryman  looks  to  be  made  a  prisoner 
no  less  than  he  expects  to  take  prisoners  ;  the  only  sur- 
prising sensation  was  the  wonder  common  to  Morgan  and 
his  friends  at  the  unexpected  meeting.  The  Federals 
were  stripped  of  their  arms  and  turned  loose  afoot  without 
even  the  pretence  of  exacting  a  verbal  parole,  and  the 
party,  now  five  men  with  one  led  horse,  made  their  way 
toward  the  cavalry  lines. 

"  Boys,"  says  Morgan,  "  what  are  these  horses  worth  ? 
I  want  both  of  'em." 

"Not  worth  much,"  says  Sency.  "I  thought  I  was 
going  to  get  a  good  swap,  but  I  reckon  I'll  hold  on  to  my 
own." 

"  How  much  are  they  worth  ?  "  repeated  the  sergeant. 

"  But  whose  are  they  ?  "  asked  West. 

"You  and  Baxter  could  claim  'em." 

"We  never  would  ha'    bothered  with  'em  if  we  had 


BACK   TOWARD  LOUDOUN  229 

been  alone.     I   reckon  they  belong  to  the  Confederacy. 
Joe  and  George  were  on  regular  duty." 

"  What  do  you  say,  George,  you  and  Joe  ?  " 

"I  think  at  least  half  the  business  is  Baxter's  and 
West's." 

So  said  Joe  Lewis,  also. 

"  Well,"  says  Usher,  "  neither  one  of  'em  is  much  pun- 
kins  of  a  horse.  I  reckon  Morgan  himself  has  a  right  to 
one  of  'em,  seeing  that  he's  just  lost  his  own  in  this  same 
night's  scrape.  Maybe  the  other  belongs  to  Tom  and  me. 
What  do  you  want  him  for  ?  " 

"  Want  him  for  Charley  Armstrong." 

"  But  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  him  till  Armstrong 
gets  well  ?  " 

"  He'll  be  well  in  a  couple  of  weeks ;  at  least  I  hope  so, 
and  if  I  don't  save  this  mount  for  him,  I  can't  see  where 
he'll  get  one.  Tell  you  what  I'll  do,  boys,  and  I  won't  do 
anything  else.  We'll  call  that  one  a  token  of  affection 
from  all  you  fellows  to  Armstrong  if  you'll  let  me  divide 
a  thousand  among  you  for  this  one  I'm  on." 

The  offer  was  taken.  Morgan  was  rich  and  obdurate  ; 
the  other  men  were  poor  and  receptive. 

Inside  the  Confederate  lines,  Morgan,  Sency,  and  Lewis 
reported  to  their  commander.  Baxter  and  West  con- 
tinued toward  Williamsport,  leading  the  extra  horse  that 
had  been  voted  Armstrong's  property.  They  would  see 
Charley,  hand  over  the  horse  to  old  Squire,  and  as  soon 
as  they  could  would  return  to  Loudoun  that  they  might 
be  ready  for  Mosby's  orders  ;  it  was  evident  that  the  war 
would  quickly  roll  back  upon  Virginia.  But  at  Williams- 


230  OLD  SQUIRE 

port  they  found  no  speedy  way  to  cross.  Boats  were 
crossing,  but  for  a  time  not  even  prisoners  or  wounded 
were  to  be  allowed  a  passage  to  the  south  side,  the  need 
of  hurrying  supplies,  and  mainly  ammunition,  to  Lee's 
hungry  men  and  empty  ordnance  train  demanding  the 
rapid,  and  therefore  exclusive,  use  of  the  boats  for 
wagons  from  south  to  north.  West  found  Armstrong 
cheerful,  who  laughingly  professed  to  have  been  more 
scared  than  hurt.  In  a  mell  of  charging  groups  his  horse 
had  been  killed  just  as  his  own  head  had  been  almost 
smashed  by  a  descending  sabre,  and  he  had  fallen  uncon- 
scious and  entangled.  Drawn  out  by  Squire  and  Barney, 
and  taken  to  a  surgeon  who  was  up  to  his  elbows  in  blood, 
his  case  had  been  declared  serious  yet  hopeful,  and  the 
intense  pain  which  had  been  prolonged  and  even  in- 
creased in  the  rough  journey  by  wagon,  had  but  aug- 
mented his  natural  fear  concerning  his  condition,  which 
fear  was  not  ended  until  the  6th,  when  his  head  was  again 
and  more  thoroughly  examined  and  pronounced  whole 
and  hard  ;  so  he  was  almost  overjoyed  when  he  learned 
that  his  friends  had  provided  him  with  a  new  mount. 

On  the  12th,  after  many  skirmishes,  Stuart  uncovered 
Lee's  infantry  now  in  position.  Armstrong,  taken  to  the 
south  side,  was  still  under  the  surgeon,  but  as  a  rapid 
convalescent,  the  more  severely  wounded  having  been 
sent  south.  West  and  Baxter  also  had  crossed  the 
Potomac  ;  they  greatly  desired  to  return  to  Loudoun,  but 
the  Shenandoah  was  very  high  and  they  decided  to  wait. 

Old  Squire  had  his  hands  full  and  his  pockets  as  well ; 
the  work  of  foraging  for  three  men  and  three  horses  kept 


BACK  TOWARD  LOUDOUN  231 

him  busy  while  West  and  Baxter  kept  him  supplied  with 
money.  Somehow  —  by  hook  or  crook  —  Squire  had  got 
eight  sections  of  tent  cloth,  and  the  men  had  rigged  up  a 
shelter  more  comfortable  in  this  hot  weather  than  a  house 
would  have  been,  for  their  fly  was  under  a  great  oak,  and 
its  sides  were  all  open.  But  it  came  on  to  rain. 

Morgan  had  reported  to  Stuart  concerning  the  where- 
abouts and  condition  of  West  and  Baxter,  and  the  gen- 
eral had  expressed  gratification.  "I'll  need  those  men 
shortly,"  he  had  said,  and  had  sent  them  a  message,  bid- 
ding them  remain  where  they  were. 

A  day  later  Stuart  sent  for  the  sergeant. 

"  Dan,  how'd  you  like  to  go  into  Loudoun  next  week  ?  " 

"  At  your  orders,  General.     Alone,  sir  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  a  few  picked  men.  Those  two  men  of  Major 
Mosby's  battalion  are  over  yonder  yet  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,  sir  ;  I  heard  yesterday  that  they  were  still 
staying  with  Armstrong  on  the  south  side." 

"  Yes,  I  ordered  'em  to  stay  there ;  hold  yourself  in 
readiness,  Dan." 

This  was  all  that  was  said  at  the  time,  but  Morgan 
conceived  that  Mosby's  two  men  were  being  held  back 
in  order  to  lend  strength  to  his  own  expedition  into 
Loudoun,  of  which  the  general  had  hinted. 

Meade's  infantry  faced  Lee's  two  full  days  at  Hagers- 
town,  but  made  no  general  advance.  On  the  night  of 
the  13th,  Stuart  covering  the  retreat,  the  Southern  army 
drew  back  into  Virginia.  There  was  the  customary  skir- 
mishing by  the  rear-guard,  and  on  the  16th  Morgan's  regi- 
ment lost  its  commander,  the  gallant  Drake.  Repeated 


232  OLD  SQUIRE 

rains  had  made  the  roads  quagmires  and  had  overflowed 
the  smaller  streams,  even  the  Shenandoah  being  level 
with  its  banks. 

The  Federals  crossed  the  Potomac  at  Harper's  Ferry 
and  below.  The  relative  positions  of  the  two  armies 
were  identical  with  those  of  McClellan  and  Lee  in  the 
preceding  autumn  just  subsequent  to  the  battle  of  An- 
tietam.  McClellan,  in  1862,  after  long  delay,  had  made 
the  movement  which  Meade  would  push  with  greater 
promptness  and  vigour.  The  contrast  in  the  activity  of 
these  two  generals,  prosecuting  the  same  measures,  but 
with  seeming  lukewarmness  on  the  part  of  one  and 
greater  energy  on  that  of  the  other,  could  not  have 
failed  to  call  forth  many  criticisms  derogatory  to  Mc- 
Clellan, though  it  should  be  remembered  in  his  favour 
that  he  had  no  precedent  of  experience  to  guide  him  as 
had  Meade,  who  a  year  later  repeated  McClellan's  move- 
ment, and  that  in  1862  the  Shenandoah  was  easily  to 
be  passed  by  Lee's  army.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  Mc- 
Clellan's enemy,  relatively,  was  not  nearly  so  formidable 
as  Meade's.  It  is  the  common  belief  that  Gettysburg 
was  a  field  of  glorious  victory,  and  that  Antietam  was 
in  reality  a  drawn  battle,  without  the  honour  of  success 
to  the  Union  cause  until  it  became  known  that  Lee  had 
declined  a  further  contest  on  that  field.  Yet  it  would 
not  be  difficult  to  show  that  the  converse  was  more  nearly 
true  :  the  battle  of  Antietam  gave  McClellan  over  Lee 
twice  the  preponderance  that  Meade  obtained  by  reason 
of  Gettysburg.  And  in  so  far  as  either  battle  should 
be  regarded  as  a  mere  battle,  that  is  to  say,  for  the 


BACK  TOWARD  LOUDOUN  233 

moment  leaving  out  of  consideration  all  the  moral  effect 
of  the  respective  campaigns  in  their  termination,  it  is 
hardly  too  much  to  believe  that  Antietam  was  as  great 
a  day  for  the  »Union  rank  and  file  as  even  the  Friday  at 
Gettysburg,  and  certainly  a  very  much  greater  day  than 
Wednesday  or  Thursday,  either  or  both ;  for  McClellan's 
battle  reduced  his  antagonist  to  a  point  almost  beyond 
hopeful  defence,  while  Meade's  had  scarcely  changed  its 
relative  capacity  to  resist.  The  future  historian,  doubt- 
less, will  mark  the  beginning  and  place  of  the  Confeder- 
acy's military  decay  not  the  3d  of  July  in  Pennsylvania, 
but  the  4th  in  Mississippi. 

Be  this  and  these  as  they  may,  the  facts  remain  that 
General  Lee  on  the  17th  of  July  found  the  Shenandoah 
impassable  except  by  bridging,  and  learned  that  Meade 
showed  signs  of  repeating  McClellan's  movement.  A 
rapid  march  through  Loudoun  and  Rappahannock  coun- 
ties to  Culpeper  might  place  the  Federal  army  between 
Lee  and  Richmond,  for  Lee  must  perforce  march  up  the 
Valley  almost  southwest  in  order  to  effect  a  crossing  at 
Front  Royal.  True,  a  pontoon  bridge  might  have  been 
laid  at  almost  any  point  on  the  Shenandoah ;  but  at 
what  point?  Certainly  not  at  any  of  the  roads  that 
passed  through  the  northern  gaps  in  the  mountains,  for 
the  exits  of  these  gaps  could  be  blocked  by  Meade's  in- 
fantry before  Lee's  could  cross  the  river ;  and  if  it  should 
be  determined  to  cross  into  Loudoun,  Lee  must  first  get 
trustworthy  information,  to  be  had  only  by  sending  men 
across  the  brimming  river  and  beyond  the  eastern  moun- 
tains. 


234  OLD  SQUIRE 

On  the  night  of  the  17th  General  Stuart  sent  for 
Morgan. 

"Dan,"  he  said,  "I  want  you  to  get  into  Loudoun 
County  and  stay  there  till  you  find  out  something." 

The  sergeant  bowed. 

"Major,  be  good  enough  to  give  Sergeant  Morgan  all 
the  information  you  can,  and  all  the  help  you  can,  too. 
I  am  ordered  off,  Dan  —  got  to  go ;  but  Major  Mc- 
Clellan  will  fix  you  up  all  right.  Take  as  many  of  the 
boys  as  you  think  you  will  need,  or,  I  mean  to  say, 
as  few  as  you  can  get  along  with.  The  major'll  see  you 
through." 

Stuart  rode  off  for  a  conference  with  his  commander ; 
his  adjutant  explained  fully  the  intent  of  the  expedition, 
and  gave  orders  for  the  detail  to  be  chosen  by  the  ser- 
geant—  a  detail  of  but  three  cavalrymen  and  four  men 
of  the  signal  corps.  And  so,  on  the  morning  of  the  18th, 
our  four  friends,  accompanied  by  Baxter  and  West,  with 
the  signal  men,  and  attended  by  old  Squire  on  a  mule 
that  Major  McClellan  had  somehow  managed  to  spare 
for  the  enterprise,  made  their  way  toward  a  crossing  on 
the  Shenandoah  near  Meyerstown.  Armstrong's  head 
was  not  well  as  yet,  but  he  had  refused  to  consider  him- 
self unfit  for  the  duty  required.  Fears  were  felt  that  the 
hot  summer  sun  would  do  him  damage,  and  the  journey 
was  pressed  with  due  regard  to  his  condition,  the  shadiest 
ways  being  chosen,  with  rests  called  when  he  seemed  to 
suffer,  so  that  it  was  noon  when  they  came  in  sight  of 
the  river.  Here  West's  experience  came  into  service : 
he  rode  to  the  nearest  farm-house  and  demanded  the  use 


BACK  TOWARD  LOUDOUN  235 

of  a  skiff,  which  after  some  little  temporizing  was  pointed 
out  in  its  hiding-place.  Three  stages  landed  the  party 
on  the  eastern  bank,  the  horses  swimming,  bridles  held 
by  the  men  in  the  boat. 

Two  of  the  signal  men  had  been  left  upon  the  west 
side  ;  the  others  were  to  attain  some  high  point  on  the 
Ridge  whence  by  smoke  they  could  convey  to  their  com- 
rades the  most  important  tidings.  In  case  of  necessity, 
one  must  return  nearer  the  river  in  order  to  give  more 
detailed  information  by  means  of  the  customary  flag 
signals. 

"  Now,  boys,"  says  West,  "  you  follow  me.  String  out 
fifty  yards  apart  or  such  a  matter.  Better  let  Baxter 
come  next  to  me ;  then  Morgan,  to  look  after  Charley  ; 
then  you  signal  folks,  and  George  and  Lewis  can  bring 
up  the  rear." 

"  Den  I's  a-gwine  to  stay  by  my  Mahs  Chahley,"  said 
Squire. 

"No,  I  want  you  to  stick  right  by  my  side,"  said 
Usher.  "  I  may  want  you  to  go  ahead.  I  reckon  I'll 
show  you  the  devil  to-night,  Squire." 

"  I  done  seed  him  too  many  times,"  said  the  old  man, 
but  he  obeyed  orders  and  took  his  place. 

"  Now,"  said  West,  "  everybody  must  halt  whenever  he 
sees  his  leader  halt,  and  whenever  the  rear  is  obliged  to 
make  any  report  you  must  whistle  and  every  man  must 
repeat  and  halt,  and  then  close  up,  and  every  man  must 
take  his  cue  from  his  leader  ;  each  man  must  follow  on 
and  do  what  you  see  the  front  man  do." 

Then  there  followed  a  display  of  woodcraft  that  had 


230  OLD  SQUIRE 

been  learned  in  perilous  experience.  "West  mounted  and 
rode  up  the  river  bank  under  the  drooping  trees,  his  horse 
sometimes  up  to  the  belly  in  water.  East  was  a  great 
field,  with  a  road  fenced  on  both  sides  running  toward 
the  mountain  through  the  open.  No  distant  eye  must  see 
this  procession.  The  leader  went  on,  frequently  making 
progress  with  great  difficulty,  until  he  reached  a  point 
opposite  the  northern  boundary  of  the  field  ;  here  he 
halted.  He  looked  back  and  saw  that  Baxter  had  halted, 
Squire's  horse  almost  at  the  side  of  his  own.  He  dis- 
mounted, gave  the  negro  his  bridle,  and  went  forward 
afoot,  commanding  Squire  to  be  still.  He  was  gone  long, 
possibly  half  an  hour,  but  when  he  returned  he  seemed 
satisfied.  Remounting,  he  led  on  again,  eastward  now, 
flanking  the  field,  slowly  ascending  the  wooded  foot-hills. 
At  one  place  where  the  trees  were  sparse  he  dismounted 
and  walked  forward,  so  handling  his  bridle  that  the  body 
of  his  horse  intervened  between  himself  and  open  ground. 
Squire  imitated  the  movement.  Ever  winding  about  — 
south,  east,  north,  sometimes  even  west  —  the  leader  went 
on,  his  speed  varying  in  accordance  with  the  nature  of 
the  ground  and  according  to  his  estimate  of  the  degree 
of  security  from  observation  —  a  compound  of  conditions 
evasive  of  mathematics  and  void  of  resolution  to  every- 
thing but  experience  coupled  with  delicate  instinct.  At 
length  he  halted  and  ordered  Squire  to  ride  back  and 
tell  all  the  men  to  close  up. 

Then  he  spoke  to  the  signal  men.  "  You  see  that  bald 
spot  over  yonder  across  the  gulch  ?  From  that  place  your 
flags  can  be  seen  by  your  men  over  the  river." 


BACK  TOWARD  LOUDOUN  237 

"  But  how  the  devil  can  we  ever  find  that  spot  again  ?  " 

"  By  this  tree,"  said  West ;  "  I've  come  out  of  the  way 
to  bring  you  to  this  big  pine ;  it's  the  biggest  one  about 
here.  I  noticed  that  spot  and  the  pine  when  we  left  your 
men  back  yonder.  I  suppose  you'll  have  no  trouble  if 
you  can  get  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  if  we  can  get  here,  we  can  get  over  yonder ; 
but  we  must  look  out  now  for  more  guide-posts." 

"  Yes,  all  we've  got  to  do  is  to  find  other  points  from 
which  you  can  see  this  tree  ;  but,  mind  you,  don't  go  to 
blazing  any  path." 

And  the  winding  way  was  resumed,  Armstrong,  here 
in  the  woods,  keeping  bravely  up. 

Now  they  were  at  such  a  height  that  when  vision  was 
open  to  the  southwest  the  smoke  of  Lee's  great  camps 
was  visible  above  the  Limestone  Range,  and  once,  when 
the  prospect  was  north,  Morgan  was  almost  sure  that  he 
saw  smoke  rising  from  Meade's,  near  Harper's  Ferry,  an 
opinion  he  was  ready  to  revise  on  the  next  day.  The  sun 
was  setting,  but  the  crooked  march  continued,  with  now 
and  then  a  pause  in  which  West  showed  some  natural 
way  mark  to  the  signal  men.  Sharp  ascents  were  made, 
the  riders  dismounting.  Though  the  peaks  were  still  in 
the  sunlight,  West  knew  that  darkness  would  fall  quickly. 
He  was  yet  far  from  the  point  he  had  wanted  to  reach  ; 
but  as  the  gloom  came  on  he  stopped  in  a  heavily  wooded 
gulch,  where  a  clear  streamlet  was  trickling  over  the 
stones,  and  ordered  all  to  close  up. 

"  Got  to  camp,  Morgan.  Can't  go  any  farther  to-night, 
unless  we  all  take  it  afoot." 


238  OLD  SQUIRE 

Morgan  readily  assented ;  he  was  more  than  willing 
because  of  Armstrong.  They  had  brought  forage  and 
rations,  and  West  allowed  a  fire,  for  the  ravine  was  so 
environed  with  wood  and  peak  that  little  fear  was  felt. 
Squire  made  a  great  bed  of  leaves  for  Armstrong,  who, 
now  that  the  stress  of  the  day's  journey  was  over,  had 
scarcely  strength  to  move.  The  halt  had  not  come  too 
soon. 

After  a  hurried  meal,  West  took  Morgan  aside. 

"I  ought  to  see  to-night  what's  on  the  Hillsborough 
and  Harper's  Ferry  road,  and  I'd  better  take  old  Squire 
with  me." 

"  Hard  work,  Usher ;  better  rest  and  go  on  to-morrow." 

"No;  you  see  I  know  where  to  find  a  man.  The 
major  keeps  a  man  on  the  lookout  in  these  parts.  I  don't 
know  who's  there  at  this  time,  but  there  ought  to  be 
somebody.  And  if  anything  has  happened,  you  know  we 
can't  get  word  back  too  soon." 

"  Can  you  find  your  way  back  ?  "  asked  Morgan. 

"  Not  to-night.  See  that  moon  ?  She'll  be  down  long 
before  I  can  start  back.  But  it  won't  matter;  I'll  get 
back  before  sun-up." 

"All  right.  Do  what  you  think  best,"  said  the 
sergeant. 

Armstrong  was  asleep.  Usher  West  bade  Squire  to 
follow,  and  started  across  the  mountain  afoot.  He  was 
apparently  unarmed,  and  Mosby's  men  wore  no  uniform  — 
except  upon  occasion.  For  half  an  hour  West  went  on 
as  rapidly  as  possible,  making  the  most  of  the  moonlight, 
now  and  then  pausing  to  look  at  the  stars.  The  way  was 


BACK  TOWARD  LOUDOUN  239 

extremely  rough,  but  at  length  he  struck  into  a  travelled 
road,  and  here  their  further  progress  would  be  a  descent. 
They  had  reached  the  greatest  elevation  of  this  obscure 


"Squire,"  said  West,  halting,  "you  must  lead  now." 

The  speech  had  hardly  ended  when  from  far  away  came 
to  their  ears  a  familiar  sound  —  directly  from  the  east  it 
floated  —  the  sound  of  a  bugle. 

Squire  muttered  a  prayer. 

"  Yes,"  said  Usher,  "  they're  there  ;  but  we  must  try  it. 
Go  ahead,  Squire,  and  go  mighty  slow  ;  as  soon  as  you 
see  anything  skeery  slip  back  and  let  me  know." 

The  old  man's  teeth  chattered,  but  he  went  forward 
down  the  road,  Usher  following  at  twenty  paces. 
******* 

On  this  day  four  of  Meade's  infantry  corps  had  crossed 
to  the  south  side  of  the  Potomac,  and  his  cavalry  had 
advanced  far  into  Loudoun.  Captain  Freeman's  company 
was  on  the  Hillsborough  road. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

IN  THE  MOUNTAINS 

"  What,  a  play  toward  !    I'll  be  an  auditor ; 
An  actor  too,  perhaps,  if  I  see  cause." 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

"  WHAT  the  hell  do  they  mean?  " 

Captain  Freeman  had  risen  to  his  feet;  he  looked 
angry,  or  rather  acted  anger,  his  change  of  expression 
being  unseen  in  the  dim  light  of  the  fire  which  Barney, 
supper  long  over,  had  allowed  to  die. 

"I  guess  they've  got  no  notion  that  we  are  in  any 
danger.  Fellow  was  practising  a  little,  I  suppose." 
Lieutenant  Brock  was  the  speaker. 

"  Send  a  man  back  to  Colonel  Smith  and  beg  him  to 
see  that  that  bugler  is  stopped.  Beg  him  to  allow  no 
noise  at  all.  He  ought  to  have  known  better,  dam  it !  " 

Brock  called  a  sergeant  and  gave  orders.  Smith's 
command,  half  a  mile  in  rear,  must  not  imperil  the  safety 
of  Freeman's  company,  the  advance  guard. 

Freeman  sat  down.  "  I  don't  like  it,  Brock.  If  there's 
a  rebel  scout  in  two  miles  he'll  know  how  to  bring  his 
gang  down  on  us.  I  have  half  a  mind  to  patrol  the  road 
to  the  west.  Yes,  I'll  do  it,"  he  said,  again  rising. 
"  Sergeant  Walker !  "  he  called. 

240 


IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  241 

The  orderly-sergeant  came. 

"  Send  a  corporal  and  six  men  west.  Have  them  go  as 
far  as  they  can,  not  to  exceed  three  miles,  and  order  them 
to  be  quiet,  and  to  send  reports  back  if  they  learn  any- 
thing. And  if  they  suspect  any  man  — farmer,  or  parson, 
or  pedler,  or  what  not  —  take  him  at  once  and  send  him 
in.  But  you  can  send  me  the  corporal  first.  Who  is  it 
to-night  ?  " 

"  Corporal  Cliff,  sir." 

"  Send  Cliff  to  me,  Sergeant." 

A  tall,  handsome  young  man  stood  before  Freeman. 
Corporal  Cliff  had  but  three  days  previously  rejoined  his 
company,  wounds  received  at  Kelly's  Ford  having  disabled 
him  for  months. 

"  Corporal,  with  six  men  you  will  patrol  the  road  over 
the  mountain  —  the  road  to  the  west.  Mind  you  now 
that  you  don't  turn  north  at  the  fork  —  go  west  on  the 
narrow  road.  You  will  find  a  picket  there.  You  are 
to  remain  out  until  relieved,  unless  you  are  forced  back. 
Be  prudent.  Keep  one  man  out  in  front  as  you  go,  and 
better  make  him  go  afoot.  Report  everything  suspi- 
cious —  seize  any  suspicious  man  you  may  see  —  watch 
the  houses  —  if  you  find  any  man  returning  home,  why, 
take  him  and  send  him  in." 

Cliff  saluted  and  started  to  withdraw. 

"Furthermore,"  said  Freeman,  "caution  your  men 
against  noise.  Twenty  yards  apart.  If  any  man  runs 
from  you,  let  him  run  ;  don't  fire.  You  can't  hit  any- 
thing in  the  dark,  mind  you  now,  and  I  want  no  noise. 
Catch  'em  if  you  can,  but  make  no  noise.  And  be  sure 


242  OLD  SQUIRE 

you  go  no  farther  than  three  miles  —  and  see  always  that 
your  rear  is  all  right.^' 

The  corporal  and  his  men  were  soon  at  the  junction 
of  the  roads.  The  picket  stationed  here  could  tell  them 
nothing  more  than  they  knew  ;  there  had  been  no  cause 
for  alarm. 

Cliff  told  off  his  men  by  number  :  "  Wilson,  one ; 
O'Donnell,  two  ;  Jones,  three  ;  Hamilton,  four ;  Smithers, 
five  ;  Ledbetter,  six.  Now,  men,  go  forward  by  number, 
twenty  yards  apart.  Wilson,  dismount  and  let  Smithers 
lead  your  horse  ;  at  the  first  sign  of  trouble  you  will  fall 
back  on  O'Donnell  ;  I  ride  with  Jones." 

The  choice  of  Wilson  was  the  best  possible  ;  the  suc- 
cession of  the  other  men  was  without  regard  to  the  occa- 
sion. Wilson  dismounted  and  went  forward  slowly,  his 
carbine  resting  in  the  hollow  of  his  left  arm.  His  sabre 
made  a  rattling  noise  ;  he  shifted  his  carbine  to  his  right 
hand,  and  held  his  sabre  steady  with  the  left.  Had  the 
ground  been  open,  the  starlight  would  have  been  sufficient 
to  enable  him  to  see  every  step  ;  but  here  on  the  edge  of 
the  mountain,  with  great  trees  overhanging  the  crooked 
road,  Wilson  felt  that  he  must  depend  more  on  ear  than  on 
eye.  His  foot  came  down  softly,  that  he  might  listen  even  in 
the  intervals  of  his  strides  ;  but  at  each  interval  he  could 
hear  only  the  clatter  of  O'Donnell  in  his  rear,  whose  horse's 
hoofs  struck  the  flinty  road  without  diffidence  or  respect. 
For  a  mile  Wilson  bore  this  annoyance  ;  then  he  halted, 
and  waited  for  O'Donnell  to  close  up.  And  now,  waiting, 
and  looking  intently  ahead,  all  his  mind  centred  on  what 
was  to  be  seen,  and  none  of  his  power  wasted  in  listening, 


IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  243 

he  was  sure  that  he  saw  two  forms  of  men  in  the  road 
before  him  ...  a  second  more  and  they  had  vanished. 

"  Come  in  here  !  "  he  cried,  but  in  a  low  tone. 

O'Donnell  was  almost  upon  him,  making  a  noise  that 
rendered  oral  silence  unnecessary. 

"'O'Donnell,  you  follow  too  close,"  said  Wilson.  "I'd 
swear  that  I  saw  two  men ;  but  they've  gone  off.  Halt 
here  till  Cliff  comes  up  and  ask  him  to  spread  you  fellows 
out  more.  I  can  hear  nothing  for  the  noise  you  make, 
and  anybody  in  half  a  mile  can  hear  you  coming." 

"  Begobs,  and  it's  all  wan  to  me,  Wilson.  And  if  the 
carpral  says  the  worrd,  Oi'll  kape  a  moile  behoint  ye,  so 
Oi  will." 

"  Hush !  "  said  Wilson,  peering  into  the  wood.  But  if 
anything  was  there,  it  gave  no  further  indication  of  exist- 
ence. Wilson  went  on  and  halted  some  fifty  yards  in 
front  of  O'Donnell,  on  whom  Jones  and  Cliff  now  closed 
up,  while  all- the  rear  was  closing. 

"  What's  the  halt  for  ?  "  asked  Cliff. 

"  He  wantts  me  to  roide  more  in  resarve.  He  says 
twinty  paces  dhrowns  him  with  me  horse  so  that  he  hears 
nah thing  but  me  horse." 

"  Well,  O'Donnell,  I  guess  he's  right  about  it.  Keep 
fifty  paces  hereafter.  You  other  men,  however,  may  hold 
to  your  twenty.  That's  Captain  Freeman's  order ;  but  I 
guess  fifty  won't  hurt  for  the  first  man." 

The  march  proceeded,  O'Donnell  preserving  the  new 
interval. 

When  the  last  horseman  had  passed  this  spot  a  hundred 
yards,  two  men  rose  to  their  feet. 


244  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Close  shave,  Squire,"  whispered  West. 

"  Yassah,"  the  negro  whispered  in  return,  "  an'  I  knows 
dat  man  ;  I  knows  him  feh  true.  Didn't  shu  heah  dat 
Hirish?" 

"Yes." 

"  Wat  dat  yotheh  man  call  him,  Mahs  Usheh  ?  "  asked 
Squire  in  trembling  tones. 

"  O'Connell,  I  thought,"  Usher  whispered. 

"Yassah,  hit's  mos'  lak  dat,  but  dat  ain't  hit  ezackly." 

"O'Donnell?" 

"  Yassah,  dat's  de  ve'y  man  ;  an'  he  b'longs  to  Cap'm 
Freeman  w'at  had  me  oncet  o'  twicet  befo'e,  an'  I  ain't 
got  no  bus'ness  wi'  dat  man  no  mo'e." 

"  What  Freeman  you  talkin'  about  ?  " 

"Mahs  Usheh,  ain't  shu  know  'bout  dat  same  cap'm 
w'at  come  to  ouah  house  an'  tuck  away  Mahs  Dan's 
brotheh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  how  do  you  know  that  he  is  the  same  Free- 
man?" 

"  I  knows  it  dess  'caze  dat  same  Hirish  was  wid  'im,  an' 
he  knows  me  too  —  you  ax  Mahs  Dan  an'  Mahs  Chahley. 
I  went  up  to  'em  in  dey  camp,  an'  I  tole  'em  to  come  an' 
git  Mahs  Dan's  brotheh,  an'  den  de  nex'  day  dey  got  me, 
an'  dey  ain't  got  no  bus'ness  wid  ole  Squiah  no  mo'e." 

"  Lord,  Squire,  if  that's  the  case,  then  that  fellow  that 
you  and  Morgan  have  been  talking  about  so  much  —  that 
nigger  Barney  —  he's  with  Captain  Freeman,  and  maybe 
you'll  get  to  see  him  again,"  and  West  giggled.  "  He  did 
you  a  good  turn  once,  and  he  did  Morgan  a  good  turn, 
and  I'd  think  you'd  like  to  meet  up  with  him." 


IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  245 

"Me?  Now,  Mahs  Usheh,  I  dess  as  soon  meet  up 
wi'  de  debble  w'at  shu  done  say  I  gwine  to  see  to-night. 
Mahs  Usheh,  hit  won't  do  to  go  awn  down  dis  a-way  no 
mo'e." 

West  saw  that  the  negro  was  unstrung.  "Come  on, 
Squire,"  he  said  ;  "  you  have  done  your  part  like  a  man, 
and  now  it's  my  time  to  lead." 

West,  with  Squire  following,  crept  along  the  edge  of 
the  road  ;  for  an  instant  he  had  considered  the  policy  of 
getting  back  to  Morgan  and  devising  the  capture  of  the 
few  men  that  he  had  seen  ;  but  the  thought  had  been 
abandoned  as  soon  as  suggested,  for  Stuart's  purpose  must 
not  be  hindered.  He  had  learned  already  that  Federal 
cavalry  held  the  Hillsborough  road  —  cavalry  from  the 
army  under  Meade,  no  doubt ;  it  was  quite  likely  that 
infantry  was  following,  and  he  wanted  to  make  sure,  and 
quickly,  so  that  information  could  be  sent  west  of  the 
mountains.  A  day's  delay  meant  peril  to  Lee's  army. 

Soon  West  turned  northward,  and,  after  stumbling 
through  brush,  and  over  rocks,  and  into  ravines,  in  half  a 
mile  he  stood  on  a  narrow  ledge  of  rock  that  overlooked 
a  great  scope  of  country  to  the  east.  He  believed  that 
somewhere  in  the  flat  land  before  him  Freeman's  company 
had  gone  into  bivouac  ;  but  there  was  no  speck  of  light 
anywhere  on  earth.  He  started  again,  bending  his  way 
westward,  Squire  close  behind  him.  Neither  spoke.  For 
a  hundred  yards  thick  bushes  gave  them  difficulty ;  then 
they  came  out  into  a  narrow  cowpath. 

"  Now,  Squire,  you  must  lead  again,"  said  West,  laying 
his  hand  firmly  on  the  old  man's  shoulder. 


246  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Wat  I  hatto  do,  Mahs  Usheh  ?  "  asked  the  negro, 
excitedly. 

"  I'll  tell  you.  Right  over  yonder,  not  a  quarter,  you'll 
see  a  shanty.  I  want  you  to  go  to  it,  and  go  round  it, 
and  coine  back.  I  want  to  know  who's  there." 

"  Yassah  ;  how  I  gwine  to  fine  out  ef  anybody's  in 
dah  ?  Want  me  to  knock  at  de  do'  ?  " 

"No;  you  just  go  all  around,  and  find  out  if  every- 
thing's quiet,  and  come  back  to  me.  I'll  do  the  balance." 

"  De'  ain't  no  dawgs  dah,  Mahs  Usheh  ?  " 

West  laughed.  "  No,  there's  no  dog  there.  It  wouldn't 
do  to  keep  one  a  minute.  Go  on,  Squire  ;  we  must  try 
to  get  some  sleep  before  day ;  I'll  not  be  far  behind  you." 

The  old  man  went  slowly  on,  his  reluctant  steps  almost 
noiseless  to  West  even  as  he  started.  Squire  had  not  re- 
covered from  the  fright  that  his  superstitious  mind  had 
taken  on  the  night  at  Gettysburg.  Armstrong,  Morgan, 
Sency,  and  Lewis  had  all  endeavoured  to  laugh  and  rea- 
son his  fears  away  ;  but  neither  laughter  nor  simple  rea- 
soning could  have  effect  against  a  credulity  stronger  than 
faith.  Squire  still  felt  himself  doomed,  though  he  must 
have  been  compelled  to  admit  his  own  wonder  that  he 
had  survived  so  long. 

The  negro  approached  a  log  hut ;  in  his  front  he  saw 
an  open  window  shutter,  and  a  door  partly  open.  Lying 
about  the  place  were  half  a  dozen  cows ;  he  walked  very 
near  them,  but  they  did  not  stir.  There  was  scarcely  a 
sound.  No  fence  obstructed,  and  he  stole  to  the  back  of 
the  house,  keeping  his  distance,  however.  He  had  not 
asked  West  many  questions,  inferring  that  the  hut  was 


IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  247 

the  residence  or  temporary  quarters  of  some  one  that 
West  knew  and  wished  to  see  ;  furthermore,  he  supposed 
that  West  wanted  to  learn  whether  his  approach  would 
be  attended  with  danger,  both  of  which  suppositions 
were  thoroughly  correct. 

Squire  completed  his  circuit,  getting  momentarily 
nearer  to  the  lone  dwelling,  until,  when  again  he  stood 
in  front,  his  sense  of  insecurity  had  been  greatly  lessened  ; 
he  had  been  all  round  —  there  seemed  no  danger  here. 
He  came  nearer  the  door,  and  heard  heavy  breathing 
within  ;  he  returned  to  West  and  reported. 

"  Now,  Squire,  stick  right  behind  me  and  keep  a  good 
lookout  while  I  talk  with  that  man  in  there." 

Squire  took  stand;  West  went  to  the  door  and  tapped. 
The  breathing  stopped. 

West  tapped  again,  and  then  made  a  peculiar  noise  by 
scraping  with  his  nails  against  the  door.  Presently  the 
door  swung  wide  open. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  said  a  low  voice  within. 

"  Come  out,  Swain,"  said  West,  recognizing  the  voice. 

"  You,  Usher  ?  I  thought  you  were  in  Maryland.  The 
boys  have  been  anxious  about  you.  Glad  you've  come ; 
I've  been  expecting  some  one." 

Swain  followed  West  into  the  woods,  going  past  Squire 
who  was  bidden  to  remain  at  watch.  Fifty  yards  from 
the  path  they  halted,  and  Swain  threw  himself  on  the 
ground.  He  was  barefoot,  and  in  his  shirt  sleeves  — 
seemingly  in  the  garb  in  which  he  had  slept. 

"Freeman's  cavalry  are  down  yonder,"  said  West,  as 
he  sat  down. 


248  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Freeman  ?  Possibly  ;  and  many  more.  Whole  bri- 
gades of  them  have  gone  on  toward  Snicker's." 

"  Where  are  your  arms  ?  "  asked  Usher. 

"  Oh,  out  yonder,"  waving  his  hand  ;  "  I'd  have  slept 
out,  too,  but  for  thinking  some  of  you  would  want  to  find 
me." 

"  Been  anywhere,  Swain  ?  " 

"  Just  come  from  the  river,  or  as  near  as  I  could  get 
to  it.  God  !  How  sleepy  I  am  !  "  and  Swain  gave  an 
immense  yawn. 

"  Well,  out  with  it.  Stuart  and  Lee  want  to 
know." 

"  What !  You  come  from  the  army  ?  "  and  Swain  sat 
up  straight,  with  sudden  alertness. 

"  Yes  ;  Stuart  has  sent  men  over  here,  and  I  came  with 
'em.  We've  got  to  find  out  and  report  what  Mr.  Meade 
is  about,  and  then  go  on  to  the  major.  Tell  me  what  you 
saw  at  the  river." 

"  Saw  ?  From  the  top  of  Loudoun  Height  I  saw  more 
men  at  one  time  than  all  General  Lee's  army." 

"  On  this  side  ?  " 

"  No  —  about  half  on  this  side  ;  the  others  coming," 
said  Swain. 

"That's  all  I  want  to  know.  You've  saved  me  a  lot 
of  hard  work,  Swain.  Saw  'em  this  morning? " 

"  Yes,  and  they  kept  coming  in  two  columns,  —  one 
toward  Hillsborough,  and  the  other  from  Berlin.  I  can't 
say  for  certain,  but  I  believe  all  of  Meade's  army  will  be  on 
this  side  by  to-morrow  night.  I  saw  at  least  half  of  it, 
I  should  think,  and  they  were  marching  south,  evidently 


IN  THE   MOUNTAINS  249 

to  make  room  for  more  —  camping  in  Sweet  Run  Valley," 
and  Swain  once  more  lay  back  on  his  elbow. 

"  You  say  cavalry  has  gone  to  Snicker's  ?  " 

"  Gone  in  that  direction  ;  I  haven't  been  there.  Lord  ! 
How  sleepy  I  am  !  " 

"  And  where  is  the  major  ?  "  West  asked. 

"  At  .  .  .  well,"  says  Swain,  yawning  drearily,  "  I 
name  no  names.  Remember  where  we  found  him  on  the 
fifteenth  of  last  month  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  He's  there  and  will  be  there  till  next  Saturday,  unless 
something  disturbs  his  plans.  You  know  who  looks  out 
for  him  there,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  hadn't  you  better  be  a-movin'  ?  " 

Swain  was  silent,  and  Usher  repeated  the  question, 
shaking  his  companion's  knees.  "  Oh,  I  heard  you  ; 
I  wasn't  asleep,"  Swain  said.  "I  thought  I'd  make  a 
start  to-morrow.  I  certainly  must  get  away  before  all 
that  infantry  shuts  me  off." 

"  How  long  you  been  here  ?  " 

"Relieved  Simpson  on  the  fourteenth." 

"  And  you  are  to  go  without  being  relieved  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  I'll  report  to  the  major,  and  if  he  wants  to  send 
me  back,  well  and  good;  but  Meade's  advance  makes 
this  post  useless,  and  another  on  Bull  Run  the  necessary 
thing."  The  last  words  had  been  said  in  tones  of  in- 
creasing sleepiness  ;  perhaps  Usher  guessed  them  from 
their  connection. 

"  Why  not  go  with  us  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  take  it,  Usher,  that  a  man's  a  good  deal  safer 


250  OLD  SQUIRE 

at  this  moment  by  himself  than  in  a  crowd.  Now,  you 
and  your  friends  could  hardly  be  seen  without  suspicion, 
while  I  am  the  most  innocent  clodhopper  in  the  whole 
range."  Swain's  words  were  now  clear,  and  his  tones 
were  evidence  that  two  seconds  of  sleep  had  reenforced 
him. 

West  yawned. 

"  Whose  darky  is  that  you  have  with  you  ? "  Swain 
asked. 

"  Armstrong's,"  and  Usher's  voice  dropped  heavily  on 
the  second  syllable. 

"  What  Armstrong  ?  Wake  up,  Usher  !  I  don't  like 
darkies.  Not  one  in  ten  but  will  give  you  away." 

"Charley.  Lives  down  Middleburg  way  —  you  ought 
to  know  him.  True  as  steel." 

"But  I  don't  know  him,  even  though  I  ought.  Will 
you  come  in  and  share  my  straw  pile  ?  " 

"  Not  if  I  know  myself.  Much  obliged,  old  man  ;  but 
it's  a  long  shot  safer  in  the  woods.  I've  got  to  make 
tracks  at  daylight  so  as  to  get  back  to  my  folks  ;  they're 
hid  over  yonder  by  the  knob.  Got  two  signal  men  with 
us  —  and  say,  you  know  George  Sency,  don't  you  ?  " 

"Man  that  was  with  us  last  month?  struck  up  with 
us  over  the  river,  didn't  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he's  along.     You  won't  go  with  us  ?  " 

"No,  none  of  your  madding  and  gadding  crowd  for 
me;  I  prefer  to  risk  it  alone." 

The  men  had  risen  and  were  walking  toward  the  hut. 

"  Well,  if  you  won't  go,  I  hope  to  see  you  next  week  ; 
you  know  what  Meade's  advance  means." 


IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  251 

"  Yes  —  the  Rappahannock,"  returned  Swain. 

"  And  plenty  of  game  in  his  rear." 

"  Exactly.     I'll  be  on  hand  if  I  keep  a  whole  skin." 

"Good-by,  Swain." 

"  Good-by,"  and  the  two  men  clasped  hands. 

West  and  Squire  plunged  again  into  the  woods,  but 
soon  halted.  It  was  past  midnight,  and  sleep  was  neces- 
sary. The  cautious  partisan  pointed  out  a  dense  clump 
of  cedar  bushes  and  commanded  the  negro  to  take  his 
rest ;  as  for  himself,  he  chose  different  quarters  —  even 
this  little  force  must  be  divided  lest  by  untoward  acci- 
dent disaster  befall  them  both.  He  explained  to  Squire 
that  Meade's  army  had  crossed  the  river,  and  commanded 
that,  in  case  he  should  be  compelled  at  daylight  to  run 
for  it,  he  must  make  his  way  back  to  Morgan  with  his 
information.  Then  he  went  some  ten  rods  from  Squire 
and  slept. 

******* 

Captain  Freeman's  uneasiness  had  not  been  entirely 
relieved  by  the  departure  of  the  squad  under  Corporal 
Cliff,  and  he  decided  to  send  out  single  scouts  north- 
westward. He  commanded  Sergeant  Walker  to  summon 
privates  Hawley  and  Beecher. 

"  Men,"  he  said,  when  they  stood  before  him,  "  I  want 
you  two  to  see  that  we  shan't  be  surprised  from  that 
mountain,"  pointing.  "I  know  it's  not  your  time  for 
duty,  but  I  have  chosen  you  because  I  need  good  men, 
and  I'm  going  to  give  you  full  credit  with  interest  for 
what  you  do  to-night.  Hawley,  leave  your  horse  and 
arms,  except  your  pistols,  and  go  in  that  direction  ;  go 


252  OLD  SQUIRE 

two  miles,  or  at  least  a  mile  and  a  half,  and  hold  your- 
self quiet  there  until  sunrise  unless  you  find  something. 
Beecher,  you  do  just  as  Hawley,  only  you  must  go  more 
to  the  north  —  understand,  both  of  you  ?  " 

"  How  far  apart  should  we  be,  Captain,  when  we  take  a 
stand  ?  "  asked  Hawley. 

"Well,  say  half  a  mile,  and  go  at  once." 

They  started  and  held  together  until  they  reached  the 
picket-post.  Here  they  agreed  on  separate  directions, 
determined  by  two  stars,  and  proceeded  apart. 

Private  Hawley  went  straight  northwest,  that  is  to 
say,  as  straight  as  he  could  go,  considering  the  obstacles 
that  lay  in  his  course.  This  man  was  thought  to  be  the 
best  scout  in  Freeman's  ranks,  and  he  valued  his  honours. 
Moreover,  he  had  courage  as  well  as  skill,  yet  on  this 
night  he  regarded  the  work  outlined  for  him  superfluous ; 
the  enemy  were  known  to  be  west  of  the  Shenandoah, 
cavalry  and  all,  so  his  courage  was  not  even  to  be  tested, 
and  he  went  along  utterly  void  of  apprehension.  Of 
course,  he  would  obey  orders.  He  would  reach  a  point 
on  the  mountain  a  mile  and  a  half  away,  or  such  a  matter, 
and  would  take  his  stand,  and  remain  till  sunrise ;  but  he 
yawned  as  he  went,  for  he  had  been  waked  from  sound 
and  insufficient  sleep. 

At  length  he  decided  that  he  had  come  far  enough; 
he  leaned  for  a  while  against  a  tree.  Out  here  on  the 
wooded  mountain  there  was  nothing  to  interest  him  ; 
even  the  stars  could  not  be  seen.  The  night  was  very 
calm.  Hawley's  sense  of  security  and  the  utter  useless- 
ness  of  this  duty  yielded  in  no  degree  to  loneliness  and 


IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  253 

the  mystery  of  a  place  that  would  perhaps  have  made 
timid  men  more  timid.  He  had  no  fears ;  he  sat  down, 
and  when  he  waked  the  daylight  was  beginning  to  show. 
He  rose,  stretched  himself  awhile,  and  began  to  walk 
slowly  away.  By  the  time  he  should  get  anywhere,  at 
this  slow  rate,  the  sun  would  rise.  He  had  begun  really, 
though  he  did  not  admit  it,  to  return  to  camp. 

A  dense  clump  of  cedar  bushes  obstructed  his  way  .  .  . 
he  moved  around  ...  he  started  back,  and  his  hand  went 
to  his  pistol.  Then  stooping,  he  saw  under  the  spreading 
boughs.  "  Come  out  o'  that !  "  he  cried,  —  and  old  Squire 
crawled  out,  shivering  with  fear. 

Hawley  had  covered  the  negro  with  his  pistol,  but  at 
once  had  compassion,  for  the  old  man's  terror  was  painful 
even  to  him  who  caused  it. 

"  Mahsta,  I  ain't  a-doin'  nothin'  wrong  ;  I  dess  be'n 
a-sleepin'  heah,  Mahsta." 

"  Who  are  you  ?     Where  do  you  belong  ?  " 

The  lowering  of  the  pistol  had  restored  to  Squire  some 
degree  of  reason.  His  first  thought  had  been  that  his  im- 
pending death  was  here  ;  had  the  muzzle  still  threatened, 
perhaps  his  paroxysms  of  continued  terror  would  have 
brought  complete  confession  through  inability  to  devise 
any  theory  of  self-defence  ;  but  now,  with  a  possibility 
manifest  that  clemency  was  not  repugnant  to  his  captor, 
his  mind  went  to  the  fact  that  Freeman  was  near,  and  to 
the  likelihood  that  this  Federal  was  one  of  Freeman's  men. 

"  Me  ?  I  ain't  nobody  but  ole  John,  Mahsta  !  I  dess 
be'n  out  sheah  a-lookin'  up  de  cows  in  de  mounting  ;  ain't 
shu  seed  some  stray  cows,  Mahsta  ?  " 


254  OLD   SQUIRE 

"  Cows  be  damned  !     You  get  before  me  and  march." 

"  Yassah  ;   w'ich  a-way  you  want  me  to  go,  Mahsta  ?  " 
and  at  each  word  old  Squire's  voice  was  higher,  and  he 
seemed  on  the  point  of  breaking  hysterically. 

"  Down  the  mountain  !  That  way  !  Turn,  now,  and 
step  out  quick  !  " 

"  Suppose  you  turn  ! "  said  a  low  voice  just  behind 
him. 

Impossible  not  to  obey ;  impossible,  as  well,  not  to 
obey  West's  further  commands.  Hawley  threw  down  his 
pistol,  which  West  kicked  toward  Squire  who  at  once 
seized  upon  it.  Then  the  Federal's  other  pistol  was 
demanded. 

There  was  now  the  broad  light  of  day. 

West  reflected  ;  then  he  said,  "  Squire,  you  know  — 
but  come  here." 

At  the  word  Squire  both  Hawley  and  the  negro  had 
started,  the  one  with  recognition,  the  other  with  fear  of 
contingencies  in  the  unknown  future.  Possibly  the  old 
man  would  not  have  sorrowed  had  West  slain  his  prisoner 
on  the  spot. 

Squire  came  near,  and  West,  with  finger  on  trigger 
and  eye  on  his  captive,  whispered,  "  Go  to  the  house  and 
tell  Mr.  Swain  to  get  away  ;  tell  him  about  this  business : 
hurry  !  " 

Squire  darted  through  the  bushes. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  mean  by  this  caper  ? "  asked 
Hawley. 

"  I  mean  to  prevent  you  from  interfering  with  my  busi- 
ness," was  the  reply. 


IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  255 

"Yes,  and  you'll  ketch  hell  for  it.  I'm  obeyin'  my 
orders,  and  you're  opposing  the  authorities  of  the  United 
States,  and  you'll  ketch  hell  for  it." 

West  kept  his  temper  ;  he  saw  that  his  own  quality 
was  a  matter  of  doubt  to  the  Federal,  and  he  had  no  wish 
to  relieve  the  doubt  as  yet. 

"  You'll  ketch  hell !  And  I'll  tell  you  another  thing, 
young  man  ;  your  neighbours  will  ketch  hell,  too,  for 
what  you're  doing." 

Hawley  still  thought  that  his  captor,  in  ordinary  farm- 
er's clothing,  was  some  dweller  on  this  mountain,  yet  he 
was  by  no  means  sure  ;  he  knew  that  the  clothes  do  not 
make  the  man  ;  if  he  must  remain  a  prisoner  he  preferred 
to  be  in  the  hands  of  a  soldier  ;  it  would  be  hard  to  con- 
fess to  his  comrades  that  he  had  yielded  to  a  single  civilian. 
And  if  Hawley  was  in  a  quandary,  the  Confederate 
was  in  a  worse  one  —  always  excepting  the  immediate 
danger  pertinent  to  the  situation.  He  knew  not  what 
to  do  with  the  Federal,  and  he  knew  not  what  declaration 
to  make  of  his  own  character.  To  allow  the  man  his 
liberty,  would  be  to  invite  distress  upon  the  people. 
Hawley  had  spoken  but  too  truly  :  West  knew  that  the 
neighbours  would  ketch  hell  for  this  deed.  Should  the 
prisoner  be  held,  Freeman  would  miss  his  man,  would 
suspect  the  work  of  bushwhackers,  soon  or  late  would 
take  vengeance  on  the  community  that  tolerated  such  ; 
on  the  other  hand,  if  the  prisoner  should  be  turned  loose 
he  would  at  once  report  and  the  same  consequences  would 
ensue.  But  West  must  decide,  and  he  decided. 

"  Then  I  shall  not  let  you  go  very  easily,"  he  said. 


256  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  What  you  goin'  to  do  with  me  ? "  demanded  the 
Federal. 

"  I  shall  send  you  to  Lee's  army  as  a  prisoner." 

"Pretty  big  job  for  one  man,"  says  Hawley,  with 
something  like  defiance. 

"  One  man  ?     You'll  soon  see." 

West's  mind  had  formed  its  scheme.  He  continued : 
"  You  think  me  a  citizen  ?  I  am  a  regularly  enlisted 
soldier  of  the  Confederate  States." 

"  Then  you  are  a  spy. " 

"  No  ;  I  am  no  spy.  I  have  not  been  in  your  lines. 
But  there's  no  use  in  this  talk  ;  you  go  with  me."" 

Squire  came  up  breathless. 

"  Everything  all  right,  Squire  ?  " 

"Yassah." 

West  ordered  his  prisoner  to  march  in  front  and  fol- 
lowed with  drawn  pistol,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  brought 
him  into  the  presence  of  Morgan's  men. 

If  the  Federal  was  astonished  to  find  himself  in  the 
hands  of  half  a  dozen  well-equipped  rebel  cavalrymen,  he 
gave  no  intimation  of  such  feeling.  Truth  was  that  he 
much  preferred  his  present  situation  to  what  he  had 
feared,  for  his  mind  had  been  full  of  the  possibility  of 
bad  treatment  from  bushwhackers,  but  from  the  moment 
of  his  seeing  Sergeant  Morgan  he  felt  safe,  for  he  recog- 
nized in  him  the  prisoner  who  had  escaped  from  Free- 
man on  the  night  of  the  6th,  and  that  prisoner,  certainly, 
had  been  no  bushwhacker.  So,  too,  had  Morgan  recog- 
nized Hawley,  even  at  once  ;  for  the  sergeant,  being  told 
that  Freeman's  company  was  near,  felt  greater  interest  in 


IN  THE   MOUNTAINS  257 

his  individual  enemies  than  the  Federal  could  have  pre- 
viously had.  Yet  neither  of  these  experienced  soldiers 
thought  it  wise  to  betray  the  fact  that  he  knew  the  other. 

Morgan  and  West  held  a  council,  and  it  was  decided 
that  the  imperative  duty  resting  upon  the  signal  men  in 
consequence  of  the  alarming  news  of  Meade's  advance 
prohibited  their  encumbering  themselves  with  a  prisoner  ; 
the  signal  men  must  get  to  their  work  at  once,  and  the 
captive  could  not  be  taken  to  Lee's  army.  Moreover, 
West  was  strong  in  his  opinion  that  Hawley  should  be 
paroled. 

"  Of  course,  Sergeant,  I  know  he  won't  observe  any 
such  parole  ;  but  it  will  have  an  effect.  He  will  be  more 
than  ever  convinced  that  we  are  not  bushwhackers.  What 
I  want,  Morgan,  is  to  give  him  no  cause  to  harry  the  peo- 
ple ;  he  has  already  said  the  neighbours  are  going  to  ketch 
hell  for  my  work." 

"  We  cannot  keep  him,"  said  Morgan. 

The  signal  men  were  getting  ready ;  they  would  return 
to  the  spot  pointed  out  on  the  preceding  day,  wave  their 
information,  which  their  comrades  would  repeat,  and  then 
would  recross  the  river,  for  both  Morgan  and  West  had 
complete  confidence  that  Swain's  news  was  valid  and  con- 
clusive. As  for  Morgan  and  his  men,  the  very  contin- 
gency that  had  come  would  cause  their  remaining  in 
Loudoun,  Stuart  having  commanded  that  in  case  of 
Meade's  advance  the  sergeant's  little  force  should  not 
attempt  to  overtake  Lee's  army,  which  would  at  once 
march  up  the  Valley ;  but  should,  on  the  contrary,  attach 
itself  to  Mosby,  not  only  for  its  own  protection,  but  also 


258  OLD  SQUIRE 

that  strength  should  be  added  to  the  major's  against  the 
Federals  when  they  should  have  passed  on  to  the  Rappa- 
hannock.  No,  it  was  impossible  to  hold  the  prisoner. 

"  Well,  Usher,  we'll  let  him  loose  on  parole  ;  but  sup- 
pose he  won't  accept  ?  " 

"  Then  we  must  let  him  escape,"  said  West. 

But  Hawley  showed  no  reluctance  to  give  his  parole, 
which  in  duplicate  was  written  out  in  form  as  accurate  as 
the  sergeant  could  remember,  and  was  willingly  signed. 

So  Hawley  started  eastward  afoot,  and  at  once  Morgan's 
party  began  to  move  south,  while  the  signal  men  went 
west,  —  Morgan  intent  upon  heading  around  Freeman  and 
all  other  Federals,  and  getting  to  Mosby  before  the  enemy's 
advance  should  cut  him  off. 

And  Squire  had  little  comfort  in  the  knowledge  that  his 
own  name  would  once  more  get  to  Freeman's  ears. 


CHAPTER  XX 

A   HOME-COMING 

"  What  think  you  ?  have  you  beheld, 
Or  have  you  read  or  heard  ?  or  could  you  think  ? 
Or  do  you  almost  think,  although  you  see 
That  you  do  see  ?    Could  thought,  without  this  object, 
Form  such  another  ?  " 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

MEADE'S  advance  was  pushed  without  opposition  to 
Warrenton,  where  his  headquarters  were  established  on 
the  24th.  On  the  same  day  General  Lee,  with  Long- 
street's  corps,  reached  Culpeper.  On  the  night  of  the 
18th,  while  Freeman's  small  force  had  been  in  bivouac 
near  Hillsborough,  Pleasonton's  cavalry  held  Snickers- 
ville,  Bloom  field,  and  Upper  ville,  and  a  brigade  had 
already  passed  on  to  occupy  Ashby's  Gap. 

Before  Morgan  and  his  men  had  ridden  three  miles  on 
the  morning  of  the  19th  they  learned  from  citizens  that 
Snickersville  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Federals,  with  the 
whole  country  near  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Ridge  under 
their  power.  Too  great  discretion  might  have  determined 
the  little  party  to  remain  hidden  in  the  mountains  until 
night,  but  West  was  confident  that  he  could  get  across  the 
roads  on  which  the  bodies  of  Federals  were  moving.  He 

269 


260  OLD  SQUIRE 

reasoned  that  as  yet  the  eastern  side  of  Loudoun  Valley  was 
comparatively  clear  of  the  Federals,  so  that  the  only  great 
danger  of  the  journey  would  come  almost  at  the  start; 
better  make  the  movement  at  once  ;  the  delay  of  a  few 
hours  might  fill  the  Valley  with  enemies.  Morgan  also 
believed  that  once  across  the  roads  that  connected  the 
gaps  of  the  Blue  Ridge  the  party  might  feel  reasonably 
safe  ;  while  he  shared  but  little  in  Usher's  desire  to 
speedily  join  Mosby  in  order  to  make  use  of  the  great 
opportunity  for  reaping  glory  and  spoil  when  Meade's 
army  should  have  passed  on  to  the  Rappahannock,  the 
condition  of  his  brother,  whom  it  was  now  possible  to  see 
again,  had  become  a  subject  of  deep  interest,  and  he 
required  but  little  urging  to  take  what  proved  in  the  end 
a  successful  if  not  the  wisest  course. 

In  the  meanwhile  Private  Hawley,  after  wandering 
over  the  mountain  as  West  had  counted  upon,  succeeded 
in  reaching  camp,  where  he  found  that  the  company  had 
marched  to  Purcellville,  Captain  Freeman  having  left 
O'Donnell  with  orders  to  wait  a  given  time  for  the 
missing  man. 

"  And  it's  yerself  that's  been  getting  yer  purty  face 
torn  —  and  yer  hands  torn  —  and  yer  breeches  all  torn, 
and  making  the  captain  as  mad  as  a  hornet  wid  je." 

"Couldn't  help  it,  O'Donnell.  I've  seen  hell,  and  I 
don't  know  how  it's  going  to  end." 

"  Faith,  and  hell  shall  niver  see  the  day  whin  she  shuts 
up  shop." 

"  Do  you  know  a  man  named  Squire  ? "  Hawley's 
intonation  revealed  certainty  of  the  reply. 


A  HOME-COMING  261 

"  That  dam  black  naygur,  ye  mane  ?  "  and  O'Donnell's 
eyes  met  his  questioner's  with  a  demand  for  more  than 
the  words  required. 

"  Yes,  that's  exactly  who  I  mean.  And  I  want  to 
know  if  you  remember  a  man  that  you  called  your  num- 
ber eighteen." 

"  And  hwat  d'ye  mane  be  assking  me  that,  now  ?  Why 
cahn't  ye  say  hwat  ye're  going  to  say  and  have  done  with 
ut?" 

"  Well,  I've  seen  both  of  'em,  and  I've  seen  more. 
I'm  a  paroled  prisoner,"  said  Hawley,  with  dignity. 

"  D'ye  mane  ut  ?  " 

"I  mean  it.  I  was  in  the  hands  of  a  party  of  six 
rebels,  and  that  nigger  was  with  'em,  and  they  were 
under  Sergeant  Morgan,  and  he's  your  number  eigh- 
teen. It's  true,  by  —  !  "  and  Hawley  held  up  his  hand, 
and  looked  very  solemn. 

"Arid  how  did  ye  get  yerself  caught,  if  ye  plaise, 
Misther  Hawley?" 

"  To  tell  you  the  straight  truth,  O'Donnell,  it  was  all 
along  o'  that  dam  nigger,"  replied  Hawley,  shaking  his 
head.  "  I  had  him  ;  I  got  him  dead,  an'  was  bringing 
him  back,  and  all  of  a  sudden  I  found  myself  looking 
into  the  barrels  of  half  a  dozen  carbines.  I  tell  you  the 
fact,  O'Donnell,  I  was  never  so  skeered  in  all  my  life." 

"  The  farchune  of  warr,  Misther  Hawley.  And  ye  say, 
do  ye,  that  me  f rind  Squoire  it  was  that  paroled  ye  ?  " 

"  Oh,  go  to  hell !      You  know  better'n  that." 

"  Oi  do,  sor  ;  Oi  know  betther  ;  but  hwat  Oi  mane  to 
impress  uponn  ye,  Misther  Hawley,  is  that  wanst  ye 


262  OLD  SQUIRE 

spurned  me  wid  ridicule  whin  Oi  made  me  claim  to  that 
same  Squoire  as  me  own  take,  and  ye  said  ye  had  killed 
him.  Renumber  that  now,  Misther  Hawley  ! "  The 
charge  was  delivered  with  a  smile  designed  as  a  crusher. 

"  Yes,  I'm  compelled  to  admit  that  I  was  wrong  in 
that,"  returned  Hawley  ;  "  but  I  was  telling  you  that 
they  paroled  me." 

"  And  ye  say  it  was  the  inimy's  cavalry  it  was  that  did 
ye  that  koindness,  Misther  Hawley  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  they  were  a  squad  of  Stuart's  men,  I  suppose. 
Didn't  you  hear  that  Captain  Freeman  wormed  it  out  of 
Squire  that  he  belonged  to  a  man  in  Fitz  Lee's  brigade  ?  " 

"  Sure,  and  Oi've  been  told  that  same." 

"I  don't  believe  they  knew  what  to  do  with  me, 
O'Donnell.  At  first  I  was  afraid  I'd  got  into  a  gang  of 
bushwhackers ;  but  they  showed  up  all  right,  —  gray 
uniforms,  carbines,  and  everything.  Same  man  you  had 
over  yonder  —  that  same  sergeant  —  wouldn't  give  his 
right  name  then  —  Morgan's  his  name.  I've  got  his 
parole  in  my  pocket,  and  he's  got  my  name  in  his  pocket ; 
but  if  I've  got  any  sense,  his  parole  is  not  worth  a  dam, 
and  Freeman's  not  a-going  to  recognize  it.  I  wish  he 
would,  but  he  won't,"  and  Hawley  sighed. 

"  A  sergeant,  ye  say  ?  And  sure  me  number  eightain 
was  a  sergeant.  But  Oi  tell  ye  that  Captain  Frayman  is 
not  the  man  to  swallow  such  a  parole;  no,  no,  Misther 
Hawley,  we're  not  to  lose  the  great  pleasure  of  yer 
sosoity  for  anny  sergeant's  parole.  Make  up  yer  mind  to 
that  at  wanst,  and  save  yerself  from  suspinse.  And  ye've 
had  good  luck,  Oi  say,  in  getting  away  so  loightly.  Me 


A  HOME-COMING  263 

number  eightain  thraited  ye  mighty  well  intirely,  Misther 
Hawley  ;  did  ye  say  they  wor  aiger  for  ye  to  go  ?  " 

"  I  thought  so.  They  were  ready  to  move,  and  I  thought 
they  wanted  to  get  rid  of  me.  There  was  one  time  when 
I  was  afraid  they'd  put  me  out  of  the  way  ;  they  treated 
me  all  right,  though." 

The  foregoing  version  of  the  adventure  was  repeated 
to  Captain  Freeman,  who  demanded  Hawley's  duplicate 
parole  and  examined  it. 

"  Aha  !  First  Virginia  !  Then  I  suppose  Fitz  Lee's 
crowd  has  crossed  over.  Sergeant  D  —  or  is  it  a  D? 
Yes,  a  D.  Sergeant  D.  Morgan,  First  Virginia  cavalry. 
Why,  Hawley,  this  thing  is  not  worth  the  paper  it's  writ- 
ten on.  You  will  get  back  to  your  duty,  man." 

"  Then  I  must  ask  you  to  protect  me  in  this,  Captain." 

"  Protect  ?  I  tell  you  to  get  back  to  your  duty.  A  ser- 
geant has  no  right  to  administer  such  an  oath  as  this.  Such 
authority  is  high.  It  must  come  with  high  command. 
If  it  should  be  the  case  that  a  man  who  violated  such  a 
pretended  thing  as  this  were  taken  again  and  maltreated 
in  any  way,  General  Meade  himself  would  see  after  it." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  suppose  so  ;  but  it  wouldn't  do  me  very 
much  good  if  they  had  already  shot  me." 

"Do  you  want  me  to  assure  you?  My  dear  fellow, 
just  hold  me  responsible.  But  there's  not  a  particle  of 
danger.  And  you're  lucky  in  not  being  sent  to  some  rebel 
prison  ;  and  if  you  feel  ticklish  about  it,  and  happen  to  get 
caught  again,  just  follow  that  sergeant's  example  and  give 
'em  some  other  name.  Morgan  —  Morgan,"  continued 
Freeman,  soliloquizing,  "  I'm  not  sure  that's  a  D.  It  may 


264  OLD  SQUIRE 

be  an  O,  or  it  may  be  a  D,  and  more  likely  D  than  O.  But 
what  does  it  matter?"  Then,  quickly,  to  Hawley,  "You 
say  Squire  was  with  these  people  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  How  can  you  be  sure  ?  Did  you  see  him  when  we  had 
him  at  Rowser's  ?  See  him  in  good  light  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  didn't  see  him  there,  except  in  the  dark ;  but 
the  rebels  this  morning  called  his  name  more  than  once." 

"Ah  !     By  Jupiter,  Morgan!" 

Captain  Freeman  put  the  paper  into  his  pocket-book  ; 
afterward  he  showed  it  to  Lieutenant  Brock,  who  also  was 
puzzled  concerning  the  first  initial.  Brock  thought  the 
letter  was  an  L,  with  a  long  upward  stroke  to  the  tail. 
The  whole  thing  had  been  written  with  pencil,  and 
showed  effects  of  unclean  friction. 

"  Brock,  there  hasn't  been  a  word  from  Lacy  or  about 
him  since  we  left  him  down  yonder." 

The  lieutenant  recognized  in  his  own  mind  the  associa- 
tion of  ideas  that  had  called  up  Freeman's  remark.  The 
name  Morgan  and  the  name  Squire  were  coupled  on  this 
day  with  as  great  distinctness  as  formerly  they  had  been 
by  Dahlgren,  and  previously  by  Squire  when  he  had 
visited  Freeman's  bivouac  with  the  purpose  of  arranging 
for  the  delivery  of  the  wounded  Morgan.  These  com- 
pound coincidences  could  not  be  accidental. 

"It's  a  tangle,  Captain." 

"  Don't  you  suppose  Lacy's  got  away  from  West's  long 
ago?" 

"  It  has  been  very  nearly  a  month,  sir,  and  the  road  to 
Washington  has  been  open  all  the  time." 


A  HOME-COMING  265 

"  But  Doc  wouldn't  move  an  inch  if  he  thought  it  would 
hurt  his  patient." 

"  No,  and  he  may  be  there  yet.  But  would  you  suppose 
that  Lacy  has  found  out  that  he's  been  nursing  the  wrong 
man?" 

"  It  wouldn't  make  a  dam  bit  of  difference  ;  he'd  just 
keep  on  with  his  nursing.  And  I'll  tell  you  what  I'm 
going  to  do,  Brock.  Just  as  soon  as  we  get  in  reach  of 
that  place  I'm  going  there,  and,  if  I  can't  go,  then  I'll  send 
somebody.  I'm  going  to  see  who  that  man  **.  It'll  take 
a  positive  order  from  Pleasonton  to  keep  me  back.  And 
if  that  nigger  knows  what's  good  for  him,  he'll  never  let 
me  lay  hands  on  him  again." 

From  Purcellville  Captain  Freeman  marched  his  com- 
mand to  Philomont,  and  on  the  22d  he  was  ordered  to 
occupy  Aldie,  his  scouts  reporting  the  road  clear.  By  this 
time  the  most  of  Meade's  infantry  had  passed  south  and 
reached  the  line  of  the  Manassas  Gap  railroad,  and  Free- 
man was  practically  in  the  rear.  And  though  the  cap- 
tain's duties  were  not  light,  extraordinary  vigilance  having 
been  urged  by  headquarters  lest  attacks  be  made  upon  the 
long  wagon  trains  by  enterprising  partisans  supposed  to 
be  ready  to  seize  upon  such  prey,  yet  he  found  time  to 
keep  his  word  so  emphatically  pronounced  to  Lieutenant 

Brock. 

******* 

By  the  virtue  of  hard  riding  at  short  times,  long  rests 
at  others,  and  close  watching  always,  Usher  West  had  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  the  point  in  Goose  Creek  swamp  near- 
est his  home,  and  had  hidden  his  companions  far  from  any 


266  OLD  SQUIRE 

road,  Baxter,  however,  going  on  to  see  how  the  land  lay 
with  his  own  people  and  affairs,  and  to  learn,  if  possible, 
the  whereabouts  and  purposes  of  Major  Mosby. 

As  night  fell  on  the  23d  West  set  out  alone  for  home  — 
alone,  for  although  both  Morgan  and  Armstrong  were 
intensely  anxious  concerning  conditions  at  the  farm-house, 
yet  it  was  felt  that  it  would  be  too  great  a  peril  to  be 
seen  by  Lacy,  who  by  all  means  must  be  prevented  from 
suspecting  that  Usher  was  other  than  he  pretended  to  be. 
So,  in  an  hour's  time,  West  had  covered  the  distance  and 
had  hitched  his  horse,  and  was  approaching  the  rear  of 
the  dwelling  when  he  heard  the  sounds  of  riding  and 
men's  voices  in  the  front  yard.  He  stopped  short,  but 
soon  felt  confident  that  the  men  were  leaving.  He  went 
on  and  was  about  to  go  up  the  back  steps  when  he 
thought  it  possible  that  the  departure  of  the  visitors  had 
not  been  final.  In  this  doubt  he  went  round  the  house 
toward  the  room  —  his  own  —  which  he  knew  the  Federal 
Morgan  had  occupied  almost  a  month  ago ;  approached 
the  window  through  which  Tom  Baxter  had  spoken  to 
Dr.  Lacy.  Usher  cursed  his  fate,  and  the  Yankees  yet 
more,  that  he  should  be  compelled  to  act  like  a  thief  at 
his  own  father's  door ;  but  secrecy  had  become  a  great 
part  of  his  profession,  so  that  in  itself  the  measure  was 
distasteful  only  because  of  the  time  and  labour  involved, 
and  he  went  on  slyly  past  the  window,  beyond  the  light, 
in  order  to  make  a  complete  circuit  of  the  house,  in  which 
he  now  heard  the  voices  of  strange  men.  He  stood  for  a 
short  minute  behind  the  corner  of  the  dwelling,  and  saw 
toward  the  front  two  horses  hitched  at  the  fence,  and  heard 


A  HOME-COMING  267 

the  noise  of  hoofs  down  at  the  Aldie  pike,  and  knew  by 
these  combined  sights  and  sounds  that  Federals  were  visit- 
ing the  house  —  probably  officers,  for  the  men  down  at  the 
road  had  been  stationed  there  as  pickets,  doubtless,  to. 
protect  persons  of  importance.  West  now  went  on  en- 
tirely around  the  house.  His  sister's  window  was  alight, 
yet  he  feared  to  speak  ;  there  might  be  guards  out  in 
this  direction.  He  went  back  to  the  lot  and  into  the 
farm  road,  and  found  all  safe ;  seemingly  the  front  was 
the  only  quarter  concerning  which  the  visitors  felt  any 
fear. 

He  again  came  to  the  window  of  his  room  ;  he  bent 
down  and  knelt,  with  all  his  body  in  the  shadow ;  he 
could  not  see,  but  he  could  hear. 

"  Never  was  so  astonished  in  my  life." 

"That  is  what  every  one  says  when  he  is  surprised." 
This  voice  the  listener  recognized  at  once  as  Dr.  Lacy's. 

"  Yes,  I  know  it ;  but  I  maintain  it.  Never  in  all 
my  life  have  I  heard  a  thing  so  surprising.  Why,  do 
you  know  that  I  had  your  brother  in  my  hands  hardly 
two  weeks  ago?  Oh,  he's  a  sharp  one!  Just  slipped 
through  my  hands  like  an  eel.  What  do  you  think  of  it, 
Brock?" 

"Very  much  as  you  do,  Captain.  I've  read  of  such 
resemblances,  but  never  gave  them  any  credit." 

"But,  gentlemen,"  this  was  a  new  voice,  and  not 
nearly  so  loud  as  the  others,  a  voice  familiar  to  Usher, 
who,  if  he  had  not  known  otherwise,  would  have  believed 
that  Sergeant  Morgan  was  speaking,  "gentlemen,  if  you 
are  so  astonished,  what  do  you  think  of  my  sensation  ?  " 


268  OLD  SQUIRE 

There  was  a  laugh,  and  mingled  with  it  the  words  of 
the  first  speaker :  "  But  won't  I  have  one  on  Dahlgren  ! 
You  know  Dahlgren,  Lieutenant  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  what  has  he  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,  I'm  afraid  we  won't  see  the  poor 
fellow  any  more.  He  was  knocked  down  over  at  Hagers- 
town  two  weeks  ago,  and  I'm  told  he  has  lost  his  leg." 

"Ah?  I'm  exceedingly  sorry  to  hear  that.  Indeed,  I 
am  deeply  grieved.  There  are  many  men  of  higher  rank 
that  the  army  might  better  afford  to  lose.  Poor  old 
fellow  ;  I've  been  with  him  in  more  than  one  close  place. 
And  now  he's  done  for  ?  " 

"  Completely  out  of  the  ring  hereafter.  But  I  started 
to  tell  you  about  him.  He  met  me  over  in  Maryland  the 
day  after  we  left  you  here,  and  swore  that  he  had  just 
talked  with  you  for  fully  an  hour.  Ha !  ha  !  Knew  all 
about  you  !  Called  you  Junior." 

"  Now,  come,  Captain.  He  said  a  quarter  of  an 
hour." 

"No  difference,  Brock.  An  hour  or  a  quarter  —  it's 
all  one  and  the  same.  And  he  had  a  tale  to  tell  about 
meeting  that  old  nigger  Squire,  who  seems  to  be  your 
precious  rebel  brother's  shadow  —  and  the  old  rascal  did 
nothing  but  confirm  what  Dahlgren  thought  he  knew. 
I  must  find  Dahlgren's  address." 

"  That  Squire  is  a  remarkable  man,"  drawled  Lacy.  "  I 
am  told  by  the  ...  I  am  told  that  he  is  noted  through- 
out this  county  for  more  than  one  quality." 

"  He  got  away  from  my  men  at  Rowser's,  and  he  de- 
ceived Dahlgren,  and  the  other  day  he  turned  up  again, 


A  HOME-COMING  269 

still  following  your  brother,  Lieutenant.  Your  brother, 
who  seems  to  be  a  sergeant,  caught  one  of  my  men,  who 
had  previously  caught  Squire  ;  and  then  the  sergeant 
paroles  my  man  —  by  the  way,  I  have  that  document. 
.  .  .  Here  it  is.  Of  course  I  couldn't  recognize  such 
an  irregular  thing." 

There  was  silence  now.  .  .  . 

"  Let  me  see  that  paper,"  said  the  doctor.  ...  "  What 
is  the  irregularity  here,  Freeman  ?  " 

"  In  the  fact  that  a  sergeant  exacts  a  parole." 

"  And  you  have  ordered  the  man  not  to  observe  this  ?  " 

"  Yes,  certainly,  Doc ;  would  you  observe  such  a 
thing?" 

"  I  think  that  if  I  were  a  prisoner,  and  in  order  to  be 
released  I  gave  my  pledge  to  fight  no  more  till  exchanged, 
I  should  keep  my  word,"  said  Lacy,  with  some  heat. 

"I'll  leave  it  to  Lieutenant  Morgan  himself.  He 
knows  something  about  such  authority.  Has  a  sergeant, 
in  command  of  a  squad  out  on  a  scout,  the  authority  to 
grant  and  accept  paroles  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Morgan,  slowly,  "unless  such  authority 
has  been  expressly  delegated  ;  and  even  then  I  should 
hesitate  to  declare  that  a  non-commissioned  officer  would 
have  such  power." 

"Stuart  himself  took  four  hundred  of  our  men  —  1 
believe  it  was  on  the  very  day  Dahlgren  met  you  —  your 
brother,  I  mean  —  in  Maryland,"  exclaimed  the  captain, 
"and  he  paroled  them,  and  our  authorities  ordered  the 
men  back  to  duty." 

"I  suppose   that  was  decided    upon  the  ground   that 


270  OLD  SQUIRE 

Stuart  couldn't  keep  them,  and  by  paroling  them  was 
endeavouring  to  benefit  himself  and  not  us,"  said  Brock. 

"Then  your  man  is  not  to  observe  this  agreement, 
Freeman  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,  Doc.  He's  already  back  in  the 
ranks,  and  is  doing  full  duty.  What's  the  matter  with 
you,  now  ?  " 

"  I  was  merely  thinking  of  the  ox  and  bull  story,  Free- 
man." 

"  What's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  sir,  you  agreed  to  a  truce  with  this  very  Ser- 
geant Morgan  ;  now  it  seems  to  me  that  the  power  to 
negotiate  a  truce  should  be  great  enough  to  make  paroles." 

"  Ah,  Doc,  you're  nothing  if  not  argumentative. 
But  are  you  sure  that  the  man  who  required  us  to 
come  under  flag  for  the  lieutenant  was  the  lieutenant's 
duplicate  ?  " 

"Sure." 

"But  don't  you  see,  Doc,  that  in  the  first  case  he 
grants  us  a  privilege  which  we  accept,  and  in  the  second 
he  makes  an  unlawful  demand  upon  us?  He  requires 
that  we  neutralize  a  force  which  it  was  impossible  for  him 
to  withhold  from  us.  He  couldn't  keep  Hawley,  and, 
being  the  brother  of  our  friend  here,  why,  he  couldn't 
kill  Hawley,  so  he  assumes  an  authority  and  paroles  him, 
and  his  parole  is  not  binding." 

"  Captain  Freeman,  was  the  truce  binding  ?  " 

"  No,  certainly  not.  I'll  leave  it  to  the  lieutenant ;  he 
has  been  at  headquarters  long  enough  to  know  all  about 
such  matters.  What  do  you  say,  Lieutenant  ?  " 


A  HOME-COMING  271 

"I  should  question  its  force.  Of  course,  however,  it 
had  a  force  outside  of  its  formal  aspect.  For  instance,  if 
Sergeant  Morgan  had  laid  ambush  for  you,  and  under 
colour  of  truce  had  inveigled  you  into  it  and  taken  your 
company,  or  fought  you  at  disadvantage,  why  then  great 
complications  would  have  resulted.  No  doubt  our  gen- 
erals would  have  retaliated  in  some  way,  and  our  plea 
would  have  been  that  the  truce  had  been  taken  by  us  as 
offered  in  good  faith." 

"  Yes,  but  that  doesn't  show  that  a  sergeant  has  the 
right  to  parole  a  prisoner,"  insisted  Freeman. 

"  But  if  we  do  not  keep  our  agreement  with  him,  how 
can  we  expect  him  to  keep  his  with  us  ?  "  asked  Lacy. 

"  Oh,  that  old  matter  is  ended.  Besides,  it  never  did 
rise  to  the  dignity  of  a  truce.  It  was  simply  a  matter 
of  an  hour,  and  for  one  purpose  accomplished  within  that 
hour." 

"  Then  my  patient  is  liable  to  seizure  at  any  moment  ?  " 

"  Certainly.     Why  should  you  think  he  is  not,  Doc  ?  " 

"Mr.  West  and  I  discussed  this  matter  when  I  first 
came  here,  gentlemen,  and  our  conclusion  was  that  the 
truce  would  not  be  at  an  end  until  its  purpose  was  accom- 
plished, which  was  the  safe  removal  of  Lieutenant 
Morgan.  We  accepted  a  truce  offered  by  the  Confeder- 
ates ;  but  you  see  other  Confederates  —  Stuart  and  his 
troops  —  intervened  between  us  and  safety,  and  we  were 
forced  to  stop  here.  Mr.  West's  mind  was  in  a  conflict, 
gentlemen.  He  is  firm  for  the  South,  and  debated  whether 
he  ought  not  to  inform  the  nearest  Confederates  in  order 
that  my  patient's  parole  might  be  demanded  ;  but  he 


272  OLD  SQUIRE 

withheld  because  of  our  discussion,  which  seemed  to  him 
convincing." 

"  I'll  warrant,"  cried  Freeman,  laughing. 

"  But  now,"  said  Lacy,  very  slowly,  "  now  I  find  it  my 
duty  to  notify  Mr.  West  that  our  conclusion  was  wrong, 
and  that  he  is  at  liberty  to  get  Morgan  captured." 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha !  Just  like  you,  old  man.  But  you  are 
all  right  now.  Did  you  expect  your  truce  to  be  eternal  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  you  would  say,  Freeman ;  you  would 
say  that  even  from  my  view  I  ought  to  have  continued 
my  journey  just  as  soon  as  Stuart  gave  the  road ;  but  you 
must  remember  that  we  had  been  forced  to  abandon  our 
means,  and  were  unable  to  proceed." 

"  Well,  it  doesn't  matter  now,  Doc.  West  will  hardly 
make  any  extra  exertions  in  the  present  state  of  affairs. 
Lee  is  thrown  back,  and  you're  in  no  danger.  When  can 
the  lieutenant  be  moved  safely  ?  " 

"  He  might  be  moved  at  once,  if  necessary ;  but  he  is 
comfortable  enough  here,  and  it  would  be  well  to  wait 
until  his  bones  knit  more  firmly,  say  two  or  three  weeks." 

"Well,  Doc,  you  needn't  fear  to  stay.  By  all  means 
tell  West  if  your  conscience  needs  relief.  And  now  we 
must  be  going.  Lieutenant,  it  is  clear  that  that  brother 
of  yours  is  a  character.  He  grants  truces,  and  accepts 
paroles,  and  goes  through  Maryland  alone  where  he 
deceives  General  Meade's  staff,  is  captured  and  escapes, 
and  he  bobs  up  over  here  in  Loudoun  —  wonder  if  he 
isn't  somewhere  near  us  now.  Good-by,  and  don't  let 
Lacy  talk  you  to  death.  If  we  get  any  more  mail  for  you, 
we'll  send  it  over." 


A  HOME-COMING  273 

There  was  shuffling  of  feet;  West  slipped  back  and 
remained  in  shadow  until  he  had  heard  them  strike  the 
main  road  and  turn  eastward.  Then  he  went  to  his 
sister's  window.  She  was  bending  over  her  work,  in  the 
dim  light  of  a  tallow  candle,  her  face  toward  him.  His 
father  sat  with  his  back  to  the  light,  reading,  his  arms 
wide-stretched,  holding  a  newspaper  which  doubtless  one 
of  the  Federal  officers  had  brought  to  Lacy.  Jennie's 
stitches  were  regular  and  rapid.  Usher  fancied  that  she 
was  in  serious  thought  —  her  sewing  seemed  automatic. 

A  face  showed  at  the  door  —  Lacy's.  The  doctor  came 
in  and  stood  before  Mr.  West. 

"Here  is  the  Herald,  sir,  three  days  old,  and  the 
Chronicle  of  yesterday." 

"  Thank  you,  Doctor ;  your  friends  have  gone  ?  " 

"Yes." 

Jennie  had  not  ceased  her  work,  neither  had  she  other- 
wise changed,  except  that  her  eyes  for  one  instant  had 
turned  toward  the  door.  To  Usher  she  looked  very  pale. 

The  doctor  withdrew  ;  relations  with  the  family  seemed 
to  have  become  quite  familiar. 

Usher  came  nearer  and  stood  at  the  window,  his  face  in 
the  full  light,  unobserved  for  a  moment ;  then  he  coughed. 

"  Oh !  "  she  exclaimed,  greatly  startled ;  but  at  once 
she  knew,  and  threw  down  her  work,  springing  forward. 
Mr.  West  was  deep  in  his  paper. 

"  Oh,  Usher,  I'm  so  glad !  " 

Mr.  West  turned  and  saw,  but  he  kept  his  seat.  He 
waved  his  hand  peculiarly,  put  his  finger  to  his  lips,  an/ 
shook  his  head. 


274  OLD  SQUIRE 

Jennie  retreated,  and  Usher  went  into  the  back  yard. 
She  seized  his  hands  and  kissed  him. 

"You  are  not  safe  here.     Two  officers  have  just  gone." 

"  I  know,  Jennie,  and  I  can't  sleep  here ;  but  I'm  com- 
ing to  breakfast." 

"  Where  have  you  been  so  long  ?  " 

"  Over  the  river,  Jennie  ;  I've  got  some  of  the  boys 
hidden  out,  and  I  must  get  back.  Guess  who  are  with 
me,"  he  said,  patting  her  cheek. 

"  Oh,  I  can't  guess.     Tell  me." 

"Have  you  heard  that  Charley  Armstrong  was  hurt?  " 

"No,  we  haven't  heard  a  word  of  anything,  except 
that  General  Lee  is  in  the  Valley.  Was  Charley  wounded 
badly?"  Her  voice  had  not  changed. 

"  You  are  a  cool  girl.  No,  knocked  on  the  head  with 
a  sabre,  that's  all.  He  is  with  me,  and  is  fretting  to  see 
you,  but  we  don't  dare  let  him  come  up.  And  Dan 
Morgan  is  with  me,  too." 

"Oh,  what  a  story!  Now,  Usher,  you're  not  in 
earnest." 

"Yes,  it's  no  time  to  be  joking.     He's  here." 

"  Does  he  know  his  brother  is  here  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes,  and  may  try  to  see  him ;  but  he  may  be 
satisfied  when  I  tell  him  he's  getting  along  all  right. 
I've  been  here  an  hour,  and  heard  the  talk  in  my  room." 

"  How  could  you  be  so  rash  ?  Usher,  I'm  so  afraid 
for  you  to  come  to  breakfast,"  and  she  caught  his  hand 
again. 

"  I'm  coming  all  the  same  ;  haven't  had  a  thing  to  eat 
in  two  weeks.  There's  not  a  Yankee  nearer  than  Aldie." 


A  HOME-COMING  275 

"But  they  are  passing  all  the  time.  Please  don't 
come  to  the  house.  I'll  bring  a  basket  for  you  down 
to  the  spring-house." 

"  No,  I'm  coming ;  and  I  want  your  basket,  too.  My 
gang's  got  to  be  fed.  Say,  Jennie,  do  you  have  any 
aelp?" 

"Nobody  but  Father,"  she  sighed. 

"  Well,  Armstrong's  got  old  Squire  along,  and  I  don't 
see  why  he  shouldn't  come  up.  We've  got  to  be  fed 
and  the  old  man,  too,  and  I'm  going  to  send  him  up." 

"But  I'd  hate  to  take  him,  Usher;  don't  do  it." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  His  master  will  need  him,"  she  said,  in  a  strained 
voice. 

"You  little  cheat,  you  know  Charley  will  jump  for 
joy  to  send  old  Squire  up  here  to  help  you;  and  I'm 
going  to  do  it." 

She  gave  no  reply,  and  her  silence  struck  West  as 
very  singular." 

"I'm  going  to  send  him  up,  Jennie." 

"Not  at  my  request,"  she  said  weakly. 

"  But  the  more  I  think  of  it  the  more  it  seems  neces- 
sary. You  see  we  don't  know  how  long  we  are  going 
to  be  compelled  to  hang  around  here,  and  old  Squire 
can  be  more  help  to  us  all  up  here  than  he  can  anywhere 
else.  We'll  make  him  bring  you  lots  o'  things,  and  he'll 
be  lots  o'  help  to  you  and  to  us,  so  don't  you  say  another 
word;  I'll  fix  it." 

"  Who  else  is  with  you  ?  " 

"You  know  George  Sency  and  Joe  Lewis?" 


276  OLD  SQUIRE 

"No;  I've  heard  the  names,  though,  from  Mr.  Arm- 
strong." 

"  Mister  Armstrong !  Well,  I  won't  tell  Charley. 
Jennie,  Dan's  brother  will  go  away  soon.  I  heard  that 
much  from  Dr.  Lacy.  Then  I  hope  you'll  get  along. 
I  know  you  are  having  a  hard  time,  but  it  won't  last 
long  now  —  two  or  three  weeks,  Lacy  says.  Good-by  ; 
look  for  me  at  breakfast." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE   PORTENT   DEFLECTED 

"  Like  perspectives,  which  rightly  gazed  upon 
Show  nothing  but  confusion,  eyed  awry 
Distinguish  form." 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

MOSBY  was  biding  his  time. 

When  Dr.  Lacy  came  in  to  breakfast,  he  found  himself 
a  little  late. 

"  Why,  good  morning,"  he  exclaimed.  "  So  you  are 
back  home  again." 

"  Yes,  Doctor,"  says  Usher,  rising  and  shaking  hands, 
"  and  I  wish  I  could  stay.  I  reckon  I'll  be  compelled  to 
stay.  How  I'm  going  to  get  back  now  would  puzzle  a 
Philadelphia  lawyer.  Can't  you  give  me  a  pass  through 
your  lines  ?  "  he  asked,  without  the  shadow  of  duplicity 
in  his  voice. 

"Ah,  sir,"  replied  the  doctor,  shaking  his  head,  "I 
doubt  that  my  signature  would  have  the  effect  you  wish. 
Do  you  remember  our  agreement  ?  " 

"  Our  agreement,  Doctor  ?  Let  me  see  .  .  .  what  was 
it?" 

"  I  was  to  say  nothing  about  your  being  here,  and  you 
were  to  protect  me  from  your  people." 

"  I'll  stand  by  that,  Doctor,  till  the  cows  come  home. 

277 


278  OLD  SQUIRE 

And  I'll  do  more  :  you  just  get  me  a  pass  back  to  my 
regiment,  and  blest  if  I  don't  see  that  you  get  safe  to 
Fairfax,"  and  Usher's  tones  were  as  earnest  as  his  words 
were  guileful. 

"  How  is  Lieutenant  Morgan,  Doctor  ? "  asked  Mr. 
West. 

"  Quite  bright  this  morning.  His  visitors  did  him  good 
last  night.  I  suppose  I  ought  to  tell  you,  Mr.  West,  that 
I  hold  you  no  longer  to  silence  in  regard  to  our  stay 
here." 

"  And  what  may  be  your  meaning,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  last  night  I  was  overruled  about  the  truce 
which  you  and  I  discussed  when  I  came  here.  I  am  told 
that  the  truce  is  not  binding,  having  been  without  compe- 
tent authority  ;  so  I  relieve  you  entirely  of  any  obligation 
to  protect  us." 

Mr.  West's  smile  was  very  grave. 

"  But  I  step  into  my  father's  old  shoes,"  cried  Usher, 
fully  prepared  with  speech.  "  I  don't  care  a  dried  apple 
for  the  authority  so  long  as  the  truce  is  agreed  to.  I'd 
stand  by  a  conscript's  truce  if  it  had  been  accepted  and 
acted  upon.  I'll  tell  you,  Doctor,  what  we'll  do  :  you 
just  keep  mum  and  say  nothing  to  Father  about  it,  and 
you  and  I'll  fix  up  a  scheme  that'll  land  you  safe  and  me 
too.  Do  you  know  where  I've  been  ?  " 

"No,  I  am  utterly  ignorant  of  the  cause  of  your 
absence  ;  you  have  been  visiting  friends,  I  supposed," 
said  Lacy,  somewhat  dubiously. 

"  Yes,  Doctor,  and  the  friends  I  visited  are  not  entirely 
helpless,  although  your  folks  do  hold  the  high  hand. 


THE  PORTENT  DEFLECTED         279 

There  are  a  dozen  men  on  furlough  within  five  miles  of 
this  spot,  and  I  can  get  them  to  come  here  if  need  be  and 
see  you  safe." 

Lacy  shook  his  head.  "  I  prefer  quiet,"  he  said ; 
"  excitement  is  what  I  wish  to  avoid.  Lieutenant  Morgan 
is  doing  very  well  —  better  here  perhaps  than  he  would 
be  in  Washington.  No,  I  want  nothing  said  —  though  I 
admit  again  that  I  have  no  right  to  make  any  demand. 
Not  that  I  reject  your  help,  sir,  for  which  I  thank  you  ; 
but,  of  course,  I  understand  that  your  suggestion  is  mere 
pleasantry  in  regard  to  my  helping  you  to  get  into  your 
lines." 

"Pleasantry?  Never  was  more  serious  in  my  life, 
Doctor." 

"Miss  Jennie,  can  you  tell  me  whether  he  is  really 
serious  ?  " 

"No,  Doctor  ;  he  is  simply  an  incurable  tease." 

"But,  Dr.  Lacy,"  exclaimed  Usher,  "don't  you  see 
that  everything  is  altered  since  our  last  agreement? 
Then  you  had  a  wounded  man  unfit  for  service.  To  offer 
you  help  then,  surely  is  not  like  offering  it  now.  Then  I 
was  not  proposing  anything  against  the  Confederacy  ;  but 
now  you  have  here  an  important  officer,  almost  ready  to 
rejoin  his  command  and  go  to  fighting  us  again.  Do  I 
ask  too  much  of  you  when  I  propose  that  for  the  safety  of 
this  important  officer  you  provide  for  the  safety  of  a  man 
in  the  ranks  ?  Why,  bless  your  life,  it's  like  General 
Lee's  exchanging  back  the  officers  we  caught  for  privates 
you  caught  —  man  for  man  !  " 

Jennie  looked  at  her  brother  in  wonder  ;   his  voice  had 


280  OLD  SQUIRE 

risen,  and  she  feared  that  he  was  feeling  in  reality  what 
he  had  begun  in  jest.  And  Doctor  Lacy,  too,  seemed 
more  than  usually  grave  ;  outside  of  all  relations,  the 
underlying  truth  of  Usher's  false  position  was  evident, 
though  the  surgeon  was  not  convinced  that  the  sol- 
dier's proposal  had  been  serious.  He  must  answer,  how- 
ever. 

"  But  there  is  no  prisoner  to  be  exchanged  upon  the 
one  side  or  the  other  ;  and  as  for  exchanges,  it  takes  the 
authorities  at  Washington  and  Richmond  to  decide  such 
high  matters :  even  the  generals  have  no  authority 
therein.  Of  course,  if  you  were  a  prisoner  and  Lieutenant 
Morgan  a  prisoner,  I  should  be  greatly  delighted  to  see 
you  both  exchanged.  But  we  have  nothing  to  do  with 
such  matters,  and  I  have  no  power  to  see  you  safe  into 
your  lines." 

The  doctor's  tones  discovered  annoyance,  and  Jennie's 
countenance  showed  uneasiness  if  not  displeasure,  yet 
young  West  refused  to  abandon  the  subject. 

"  And  what  would  you  say  is  my  duty  in  regard  to 
Lieutenant  Morgan,  sir  ?  " 

The  question  was  powerful ;  Lacy  hesitated.  "  Regard- 
ing you  as  a  man  the  answer  is  easy,"  he  said  at  last, 
"  and  the  conduct  of  this  generous  family  has  been  that 
answer  ;  but  as  a  soldier  in  the  Confederate  army,  you 
must  pardon  me  for  not  advising  you  in  connection  with 
your  duties." 

Lacy  went  back  to  his  patient,  and  Jennie  gave  Usher  a 
basket.  Mr.  West  was  compelled  to  be  busy  at  the  farm, 
or  see  all  his  labours  lack. 


THE  PORTENT  DEFLECTED         281 

"  Usher,  please  don't  worry  Dr.  Lacy  any  more  ;  it 
doesn't  seem  right." 

"  Self-protection,  little  Sis  ;  you  see  I've  got  to  keep 
him  convinced  that  I'm  in  Lee's  army.  It  won't  do  at  all 
for  him  to  get  the  notion  that  I'm  with  the  major  ;  if  he 
gets  that  notion,  I'll  have  to  keep  away." 

"  But  he'd  never  tell !  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  he'd  do  ;  he's  not  the  sort  of  man 
that's  always  keeping  watch  of  his  words.  He's  an  inno- 
cent baby,  and  we've  got  to  give  him  words  to  say." 

"Well,  they'll  be  going  away  soon,"  she  said,  and 
sighed. 

"  Yes,  and  then  I  can  bring  my  friends  here  —  at  least 
sometimes.  If  it  wasn't  for  these  people  here,  Jennie,  we 
could  come  up  and  save  Father's  crop  at  once.  Armstrong 
has  already  urged  it." 

"  Oh,  it  would  be  too  dangerous !  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  would.  Old  Squire  will  be  here  soon. 
And  you  needn't  fear  his  blabbing.  Lacy  already  knows 
that  Squire  has  lately  been  with  Dan  Morgan  ;  but  I  don't 
think  he'd  ever  suspect  me  on  that  account.  And  if  he 
does,  he  can't  do  anything  as  long  as  I  keep  my  eyes 
open.  You  trust  Squire  ;  he  can  lie  out  of  it  with  ease, 
no  matter  what  they  ask  him  ;  I've  taught  him  his 
catechism." 

Squire  insisted  on  seeing  to  his  young  master's  comfort 
every  night ;  moreover,  such  duty  fitted  with  the  arrange- 
ments in  other  respects,  for  the  party  were  dependent 
upon  foraging,  and  the  supplies  that  Jennie  sent  daily 
by  the  hands  of  the  old  man  were  not  unneedful.  On 


582  OLD  SQUIRE 

the  first  day  of  this  new  service  the  negro  brought  up 
face  to  face  with  Dr.  Lacy,  out  for  a  stroll. 

"Well,  Mahsta,  an'  how  izh  you  a-gittin'  awn  by  dis 
time,  sah  ? "  says  Squire,  softly,  holding  his  hat  in  both 
hands  and  bowing  low. 

"  Why  —  why  —  what  is  your  name  ?  "  demanded  the 
surgeon,  greatly  wondering  where  he  had  seen  this  cheer- 
ful little  negro. 

"  My  name  John,  sah  ;  but  den  mos'  ev'ybody  dey  don't 
call  me  John ;  dey  don't  call  me  nothin'  but  Squiah,  sah, 
an'  mos'  ingin'ally  dey  calls  me  ole  Squiah  ;  'caze  dat's 
the  las'  name  dey  gim  me,  Mahsta,  an'  dey  mos'  alluz  calls 
it  fust,  'caze  de  good  book  hit  say  de  las'  is  a-gwine  to  be 
de  fust,  an'  de  fust  is  a-gwine  to  be  de  las'." 

"  Oho  !  and  you  are  the  same  man,  whether  first  or  last, 
that  came  to  us  down  yonder  a  month  ago,"  exclaimed 
the  doctor,  making  connection  with  past  experience. 

"  Yassah,  I's  de  same  pusson,  sah  ;  an'  sence  I  seed  ju, 
Mahsta,  I's  seed  a  mighty  heap  o'  hahd  times  —  dat  I  is, 
Mahsta  ;  but  I  heah  yit  on  savin'  groun'  a  leetle  while 
oncet  mo'e.  How  you  be'n  gittin'  along,  Mahsta  ?  "  and 
Squire  bowed  again,  and  looked  ineffable  interest  in  the 
white  man's  welfare. 

"  Very  well,  indeed.  We've  had  nothing  here  but  the 
very  best  of  treatment  —  the  greatest  kindness."  Lacy 
said  the  words  earnestly  ;  he  meant  them,  every  one. 

"  Now  I  is  proud  to  heah  dat,  feh  true ;  yit  I  ain't 
nuvveh  s'picioned  nothin'  else  f'om  Mahs  Tom  an'  his 
folks.  De  good  book  hit  say  you  kin  know  'em  dess  es 
fuh  ezh  you  kin  see  'em,  an'  I  be'n  a-knowin'  Mahs  Tom 


THE  PORTENT  DEFLECTED          283 

a-gwine  awn  fifty  yeah,  an'  Miss  Jinnie  she  dess  es  good 
es  de  Lawd  eveh  inek.  You  ain't  got  no  chance  to 
grumrale,  Mahsta,  w'en  you  gits  in  wid  sech  folks  es 
dem.  But  I  tell  you,  sah,  I's  be'n  a-havin'  a  hahd 
time,"  and  the  negro  shifted  his  feet,  toward  which 
his  eyes  had  fallen  as  though  in  great  distress  from 
even  the  recollection  of  his  trials. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  if  it's  a  fair  question  ?  "  asked 
Lacy,  his  voice  showing  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  yassah  ;  me,  Mahsta  ?  Well,  sah,  I  don't  min' 
tellin'  you  whah  I's  be'n ;  but  I  don't  know  zackly  whah 
I  hain't  be'n,  Mahsta.  My  young  mahsta,  he  b'longs  to 
de  ahmy,  Mahsta  —  not  de  ahmy  w'at  shu  b'longs  to,  sah, 
but  Ginnle  Lee's  ahmy  ;  an'  he  tuck  an'  tuck  me  way 
oveh  yandeh  in  Mellan'  an'  Penns'vania  de  ve'y  day  atteh 
de  day  w'en  I  seed  ju  de  las'  time  befo'e."  Squire's  face  had 
been  lifted,  and  his  gaze  now  squarely  met  the  surgeon's. 

"  Ah,  so  you've  been  over  there  ?     You  admit  it  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  an'  den  I  got  los'  f 'om  him,  sah,  an'  den  I 
cotch  up  ag'in,  an'  den  he  got  huht  in  dat  battle  w'at 
dey  fit,  an'  den  he  be'n  tuck  back  into  ole  Fihginny 
some'h's  in  de  Valley,  an'  den  I  hatto  come  wid  'im  an' 
tek  keeh  of  'im  tell  he  git  well  ag'in  ;  but  now  he  done 
got  so  he  kin  go,  an'  he  done  gawn  out  o'  de  Valley  oncet 
mo'e,  an'  all  o'  Ginnle  Lee's  men  done  gawn." 

"  Where  is  Sergeant  Morgan  ?  "  demanded  the  doctor, 
abruptly. 

"  Mahs  Dan  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  never  mind,  I  suppose  I  ought  to  ask  no 
questions." 


284  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Yassah,  but  Mahsta,  I  ain't  seed  him  sence  one  day 
las'  week  w'en  we  be'n  in  de  mounting.  He  be'n  a-gwine 
to  git  back  to  whah  he  b'long  to  ;  'caze  Mahs  Chahley  he 
tell  me  up  an'  down,  he  say,  '  Squiah,  ef  anything  happen 
to  me,  an'  ef  anything  mek  so  you  not  keep  up  wimmy, 
you  dess  git  back  home  an'  dah  you  stay  tell  I  done  sont 
fuh  you  to  come  away,'  an'  so  I  done  come  back." 

"  I  see  ;  and  you  expect  some  one  to  send  for  you  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,  Mahsta  ;  mebbe  dey  mought,  an'  den  ag'in 
mebbe  dey  moughtn't.  Mahs  Dan  he  gwine  down  de 
country,  an'  Mahs  Chahley  he  done  broke  down  wid  he 
haid  all  bunged  up  wid  a  swoad,  an'  den  I  come  along 
a  piece  o'  de  way  wi'  Mahs  Dan,  an'  in  de  mounting  he 
cotch  one  o'  de  Feddicks  an'  let  him  go,  and  den  he  tell 
me  to  go,  too.  You  heahed  anything  o'  Mahs  Dan  o' 
Mahs  Chahley,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  Well,  no  ;  at  least  I  have  not  heard  of  your  master, 
though  I  have  heard  of  Morgan,  and  I've  heard  of  you  .  .  . 
well,  never  mind."  Lacy  had  been  about  to  say  that  he 
had  heard  of  Squire's  adventures  with  Freeman  and 
Dahlgren,  but  had  thought  better. 

"  An'  whah  is  Mahs  Dan  now,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  you.  Don't  you  know  I  have  his  brother 
here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yassah  ;  Miss  Jinnie  she  dess  now  tole  me.  How 
come  you  didn't  git  no  fuhdeh  dan  dis  place,  Mahsta?" 

"  Why,  you  old  sinner,  your  people  cut  us  off,  so  we 
couldn't  get  back." 

"  Yassah,"  arid  Squire's  voice  was  exceedingly  grave 
and  humble,  "  you  p'nounce  de  Gawd's  troof  w'en  you  call 


THE  PORTENT  DEFLECTED          285 

me  ole  sinneh.  I  is  feh  true,  an'  de  good  book  hit  say  I 
not  a-gwine  to  live  out  ha'f  my  days.  Doezh  zhu  know 
de  signs,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  Signs  ?     What  signs  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  De  signs  w'at  folks  sees  sometimes  w'en  dey  time  is 
a-comin'." 

"  Premonitions,  you  mean  ?  No  .  .  .  well,  yes  ;  maybe 
I  do  under  certain  circumstances." 

"  Yassah,  hit  mought  be  dat  wi'  de  w'ite  folks,  but  wi' 
de  niggehs  hit's  signs,  Mahsta,  an'  I  done  had  one." 

Dr.  Lacy  sat  down  on  a  stump,  Squire  yet  standing. 
The  man  of  science  began  to  flatter  himself  that  he  had 
found  something  of  interest.  Lacy's  religion  was  of  the 
kind  that  regards  the  law  of  cause  and  effect  as  God 
Almighty,  and  he  had  no  objection  to  hear  part  of  the 
crude  belief  of  one  who  had  descended,  and  not  remotely, 
from  some  savage  race  head-full  of  its  fetiches. 

"  Tell  me  what  you  mean,  old  man,  and  if  I  can  help  you, 
I'll  do  it." 

"  Yassah,  an'  I  done  say  to  myse'f,  dess  es  soon  es  I 
laid  my  eyes  awn  you,  Mahsta,  I  done  say  to  myse'f  dat 
gen'l'm'n  he  a  smaht  man,  'caze  dey  done  tole  me,  Miss 
Jinnie  done  tole  me  you  done  keohed  up  Mahs  Dan's 
brotheh  an'  I  knows  hit  tek  a  mighty  smaht  man  to  do  dat ; 
an'  I  say  to  myse'f  dat  de  good  book  hit  say  dat  ye  mus' 
come  to  de  fountain  an'  ye  mus'  lahn  o'  de  wise  man. 
Now,  Mahsta,  I  gwine  to  tell  you  de  troof  —  I  done  got 
my  call." 

It  would  now  have  been  impossible  for  any  one  to  doubt 
the  negro's  utter  seriousness,  for  he  was  indeed  utterly 


186  OLD  SQUIRE 

serious.  The  purpose  for  which  he  had  begun  this  colloquy 
had  momentarily  subsided  far  from  the  surface  of  conscious- 
ness, weighed  down  by  the  ghastly  warning  received  at 
Gettysburg.  The  effect  of  time  had  but  little  diminished 
the  agony  of  the  first  shock  in  the  old  man's  mind,  yet 
the  blatant  incredulity  of  his  white  friends  had  brought 
reinforcement  to  time,  and  together  they  had  given  the 
negro  a  feeble  hope — not  hope  that  brings  pleasure,  but 
that  denies  it.  And  now,  in  the  presence  of  Lacy,  in 
whom  he  dimly  conceived  enlightenment  abounded,  and 
who  had  said  a  belief  that  might  be  construed  faith  in  the 
general  article  of  superstitious  creed  coupled  with  caution 
in  avoiding  particular  error,  old  Squire  sought  help  with 
intense  desire  to  be  told  and  convinced  that  in  some 
hitherto  unrecognized  manner  or  degree  his  part  in  the 
performance  had  been  erroneous,  and  that  therefore  the 
whole  was  void  of  effect. 

Lacy  was  far  from  being  blind  to  the  negro's  trembling 
excitation  :  a  student  of  physiology  inevitably  enjoys  vast 
interest  in  the  emotions,  and  that  which  excites  them,  and 
our  doctor  was  a  student  and  a  thinker.  He  became  alert, 
ready  to  help  the  sufferer  ;  he  saw  that  here  was  a  case 
of  illness  that  needed  the  delicate  treatment  of  spiritual 
surgery  —  the  wholesome  restoration  of  faith  by  the  diver- 
sion of  credulity  ;  he  saw  that  no  mere  assurance  would 
answer ;  no  ipse  dixit  of  his  own  could  countermand  the 
voice  that  had  already  spoken  its  decision  ;  he  must  be 
careful,  must  proceed  tentatively,  and  convince  this  negro, 
not  that  his  creed  itself  was  wrong, —  a  hopeless  task, — 
but  that  this  worshipper  had  himself  failed  to  read  its 
conditions. 


THE  PORTENT  DEFLECTED  287 

"Let  me  see  your  tongue,"  said  Lacy,  with  due 
solemnity. 

Old  Squire  shut  his  eyes  and  obeyed. 

"  Ah  !  ah  !  —  partly  right  —  partly  wrong  —  a  little 
farther  —  there.  Pretty  bad  tongue,  but  it'll  come  all 
right  to-morrow.  Now  tell  me  about  that  sign." 

"  You  wants  me  to  tell  you  how  I  come  to  git  dat  call 
Mahsta  ?  "  asked  the  negro,  with  trembling  lips. 

"Yes,  don't  skip  anything.  You  see  such  things  de- 
pend on  a  great  many  other  things.  For  instance,  was  it 
in  the  night  or  in  the  day  ?  " 

"Hit  wus  mos'  in  de  night,  Mahsta." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  know  which.  Was  it  when  you  were 
asleep  or  awake  ?  " 

"  I  wus  wide  awake,  Mahsta,  an'  hit  wus  in  de  night ; 
mos'  in  de  night." 

"  Well,  tell  me  all  about  it.     Were  you  alone  ?  " 

"No,  Mahsta,  de'  wus  anotheh  man  wimmy,  but  he 
didn't  git  no  call." 

"  Why  not  ?  Why  shouldn't  he  be  called  too  ?  "  Lacy 
was  merely  reconnoitring  ;  he  must  examine  the  ground 
carefully  that  he  might  organize  the  most  scientific  attack. 

"  'Gaze  I  wus  de  fust  one,  Mahsta,"  exclaimed  Squire, 
his  manner  very  convincing. 

"  Yes,  but  didn't  you  tell  me  just  now  that  the  Bible 
says  the  first  shall  be  last,  and  so  forth  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  dat  de  Gawd's  troof.  But  den  ag'in  he  didn't 
git  no  call  at  all,  Mahsta." 

"  Go  on,  and  tell  me  everything." 

"  Yassah,  me  an'  him  we  wus  a-gwine  along  in  de  wheat, 


288  OLD  SQUIRE 

Mahsta,  right  by  dat  place  dat  de  calvry  fit  so  hahd,  an1 
me  an'  him  we  wus  a-gwine  along,  an'  fust  thing  I  knowed 
I  done  slap  my  han'  right  awn  de  daid  man's  face,"  and 
the  negro's  voice  sank  to  a  whisper  void  of  intentional 
emphasis,  yet  full  of  tragedy. 

"And  what  did  the  other  man  do?  Do  you  object  to 
telling  me  his  name  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Mahsta,  he  waun't  nobody  but  a  po'  niggeh  lak 
me.  I  tell  you  w'at  he  done,  Mahsta  ;  he  dess  tuck  out 
de  pocket-book  an'  he  dess  went  awn  a  piece,  an'  dess  got 
some  mo'e  outen  some  yotheh  men  w'at  was  a-layin'  down 
dah  in  de  wheat." 

Lacy's  mind  immediately  became  active  to  contrive 
some  scheme  for  diverting  the  impending  calamity  from 
Squire  upon  his  companion  —  the  wretch  that  rifled  the 
dead  ;  but  he  must  feel  his  way. 

"  You  are  sure  the  man  was  dead  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Mahsta,  he  wus  dat  cole  an'  stiff  dat  I  couldn't  stan' 
de  tetch,"  and  Squire's  head  shook,  his  eyes  on  the 
ground. 

"Tell  me  where  it  was  that  this  thing  happened." 

"  Hit  wus  oveh  in  Mellan'  an'  Penns'vania,  Mahsta,  mos' 
whah  all  de  people  fit  so  long,"  said  the  negro,  solemnly. 

"Gettysburg?" 

"Yassah,  dat's  hit." 

"  You  say  the  other  man  had  no  call  ?  " 

"  No,  Mahsta,  he  tetched  'em  on  puhpose,  an'  I  tetched 
dat  man  onbeknownst." 

"  What  were  you  trying  to  do  at  the  time  ?  " 

"  I  was  dess  a-gwine  to  git  back  to  my  Mahs  Chahley, 


THE  PORTENT   DEFLECTED  289 

w'at  I  got  los'  f'om,"  said  Squire,  brightening  a  little. 
"  Hit  wus  dess  atteh  dey  got  th'ough  fight'n'  in  dat  wheat, 
Mahsta,  an'  I  knowed  Mahs  Chahley  wus  dah,  an'  I  wus 
dess  a-gittin'  back  to  Mahs  Chahley." 

"  And  what  was  the  man  with  you  trying  to  do  ?  " 

"  He  waun't  a-tryin'  to  do  nothin'  but  a-follin'  along  to 
keep  up  wid  me,  an'  git  back,  Mahsta." 

"  How  old  are  you,  Squire  ?  " 

"  Mahsta,  I  wus  in  my  twenty-fif  yeah  w'en  de  stahs 
all  fell  down,  an'  dat's  in  thihty-three,  an'  now  hit's  sixty- 
three,  an'  I's  a-gwine  awn  an'  hit  won't  be  long."  The 
first  half  of  this  reply  had  been  uttered  proudly  ;  the 
latter,  with  great  despondency. 

"You  are  fifty-five.  How  old  was  the  man  who  was 
with  you  ?  " 

"  Him  ?  He  not  ha'f  es  ole  es  me,  Mahsta.  He  got  a 
long  time  to  stay  heah  yit." 

"  A  long  time  ?  Perhaps  he  has,  but  you  have  a  longer 
time." 

"  How  you  mek  dat  out,  Mahsta  ?  Good  Lawd,  how 
you  does  go  awn  !  " 

"  The  last  shall  be  first.     Isn't  that  true  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  dat  w'at  de  good  book  say." 

"  If  there  is  a  just  God  in  heaven,  he  ought  to  go  first." 

"An'  I  got  to  follow  him,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  Of  course  ;  you  see  you  didn't  look  into  everything, 
Squire."  Neither  was  Lacy  looking  into  everything.  In 
his  great  eagerness  to  relieve  Squire,  his  mind  was  closed 
to  the  fact  that  the  old  negro  was  beginning  to  think  that 
Barney's  life  was  —  according  to  the  doctor's  theories  —  all 


290  OLD  SQUIRE 

that  stood  betwixt  himself  and  death.  "  And  when  a  man 
doesn't  look  into  everything,  he's  going  to  make  mistakes. 
You  see  that  oak  tree  yonder  ?  " 

"Yassah." 

"  How  did  it  get  there  ?  " 

"  Hit  dess  growed  right  dah  f'om  a  acohn,  I  'spec', 
Mahsta  ;  leastways  ef  hit  waun't  set  out,"  Squire  added, 
guardedly,  as  though  the  great  man  before  him  required 
the  utmost  accuracy. 

•*  Right.     What  kind  of  oak  is  it  ?  " 

"  Hit's  a  black  oak,  Mahsta." 

"  Now  if  anybody  was  to  show  you  an  acorn  of  a  black 
oak,  could  you  swear  to  it  ?  " 

"  I  'spec'  I  could,  Mahsta  ;  but  I  ain't  nuvveh  be'n 
much  of  a  han'  at  dat  kin'  o'  wohk." 

"  You  are  a  black  man.  Was  the  man  with  you  a  black 
man,  or  was  he  yellow  ?  " 

"  He  mos'  yalloh,  sah,"  Squire  replied,  compromising. 

"  If  I  had  in  my  hand  two  acorns,  —  one  of  a  black  oak 
and  the  other  of  a  red  oak,  —  would  you  know  which  one 
to  plant  in  order  for  a  black  oak  to  grow  ?  " 

"  Yassah,"  said  the  old  man,  with  great  positiveness. 

"  And  do  you  think  that  yellow  man  could  do  it  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,  Mahsta,"  said  Squire,  doubtfully. 

"  Well,  I  couldn't  do  it,  not  if  my  life  depended  on  it. 
And  now  you  see,  Squire,  how  great  a  thing  it  is  to  know 
little  things.  A  round  ball  of  an  acorn  makes  a  black  oak, 
and  another  makes  a  red  oak,  and  you  can  see  the  difference 
but  I  can't.  But  you  couldn't  make  a  red  oak  grow  from 
a  black  acorn." 


THE  PORTENT  DEFLECTED         291 

"  No,  sah  ;  hit  tek  Gawdamighty  hese'f  to  do  dat," 
exclaimed  the  negro,  certain  of  this  little  spot  of  ground. 

"  And  you  can't  tell  what  made  you  black,  and  what 
made  the  other  man  yellow  ;  but  I  can  tell  you  that  the 
call  you  had,  and  thought  was  meant  for  you,  was  meant 
for  that  other  man." 

"  De  Je-e-e-susgawd,  Mahsta !  You  mean  dat  feh  true?" 

"  Yes,  and  I'll  show  you.  Now,  you  needn't  tell  me 
anything  more  ;  I  see  how  this  mistake  happened,  and  I'm 
going  to  prove  it  to  you.  Go  and  bring  me  an  ear  of  corn." 

Squire  made  haste.  Lacy  had  now  placed  his  cause 
almost  upon  the  hazard  of  a  die  ;  if  the  cavalry  fight  that 
Squire  had  spoken  of  was  the  great  one  of  the  3d  of  July, 
then  the  doctor's  method  ought  to  succeed ;  and  he 
believed  thoroughly  that  there  had  been  no  other  cavalry 
fight  worth  mentioning  at  Gettysburg. 

"  Now,  Squire,  what  I'm  going  to  tell  you  is  this.  If  that 
call  came  to  you  on  any  one  of  six  days  in  the  week,  it  was 
meant  that  the  first  should  be  first ;  but  if  it  came  on  the 
other  day,  it  was  meant  that  the  last  should  be  first.  If  I 
had  my  way  about  it,  it  should  surely  be  his  call  instead 
of  yours,  no  matter  what  day  it  was  ;  because  he  was 
younger  than  you,  and  yet  allowed  you  to  lead.  He  ought 
to  have  gone  first ;  don't  you  think  so,  Squire  ?  " 

"  Yassah ;  but,  Mahsta,  he  dess  stayed  behime  an'  I 
couldn't  git  him  up ;  yassah,  he  done  me  dess  dat  a-way 
mos'  all  de  time.  You  reckon,  Massah,  dat  call  w'at  I 
tuck  feh  me,  hit  wus  sont  to  him  ? "  and  the  old  man's 
face  was  distorted  with  hope  and  pity. 

"  I  say  I'm  not  sure  yet  ;  but  you've  got  a  chance  ;  just 


292  OLD   SQUIRE 

one  chance  out  of  seven  ;  if  it  was  on  a  certain  day  it  was 
for  him  ;  if  it  was  on  any  other  of  the  seven  days  it  was 
for  you.  Must  I  tell  you  what  days  would  strike  on 
you?" 

The  negro's  face  became  awful.  He  shifted  uneasily 
about.  The  chance  in  his  favour  seemed  terribly  small. 
Yet,  previously,  he  had  thought  of  no  particular  chance 
at  all.  At  last  he  bowed  low,  and  said  :  — 

"  De  good  Lawd's  got  me  in  his  han'  an'  ef  he  gwine  to 
tek  me  fust  he  gwine  to  tek  me,  an'  ef  he  gwine  to  let  me 
stay  heah  some  mo'e  an'  be  de  las'  he  gwine  to  let  me  stay. 
Mahsta,  tell  me  w'at  days  is  mine." 

"  Monday .  .  .  Tuesday  .  .  .  Wednesday  .  .  .  Thursday 
..."  and  here  the  doctor's  slow  speech  paused  ;  he  would 
not  risk  the  entire  overthrow  of  his  scheme  ;  perhaps 
there  had  been  some  fighting  of  cavalry  on  Wednesday  or 
Thursday.  If  terrible  emotion  should  betray  that  all 
interest  had  been  in  either  of  these  days,  he  must  still 
scotch  in  some  way  ;  but  he  saw  that  his  patient  was  in 
intolerable  suspense,  anticipating  the  sentence  of  the  next 
word  —  "Saturday  .  .  .  Sunday." 

But  before  Lacy  had  completed  the  word  Saturday, 
Squire  was  on  his  knees. 

The  doctor  patiently  waited.  At  last  Squire  said  in  a 
broken  voice,  "  Mahsta,  izh  you  sho'  ?  " 

"That  is  to  come  now,  Squire.  Give  me  that  corn. 
There's  nothing  like  being  certain  of  anything,  Squire." 

"An'  dat's  de  Gawd's  troof,  Mahsta.  But  den  dey 
ain't  nobody,  'scusin'  Gawdamighty  hese'f,  dat  kin  expec' 
sech  a  no-count  ole  sinneh  lak  me  to  mek  sho'." 


THE  PORTENT  DEFLECTED         293 

"  Now,  Squire,  if  it  was  on  Friday,  you  have  a  chance." 

"  Yassah  ;  hit  wus  a  Friday  feh  sho'." 

"  Is  it  possible  !  But  it  ought  to  be  on  a  certain  Friday. 
Any  common  Friday  wouldn't  do  at  all.  And  I'm  going 
to  tell  you  beforehand,"  and  now  Lacy's  voice  was  exceed- 
ingly solemn,  "  I  must  warn  you  beforehand,  Squire,  that 
unless  it  was  on  a  certain  number  of  a  Friday,  the  sign 
was  meant  for  you  after  all." 

"  Wat  dat  mean,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you,  if  you'll  just  give  me  good  atten- 
tion. You  know  that  thirteen  is  a  very  bad  number,  don't 
you?" 

"  Yassah,  I  done  heahed  about  dat,  and  I  done  seed  it, 
too." 

"  And  you  know  that  Friday  is  a  bad  day.  Now,  there 
were  a  great  many  men  who  had  bad  luck  on  that  Friday 
—  but  there  were  a  great  many  men  who  had  good  luck. 
You  see  when  thirteen  and  Friday  come  together,  the 
signs  fall  on  other  men.  Understand  ?  " 

Squire  shook  his  head  ;  he  did  not  understand  ;  as  to 
that,  neither  did  Lacy,  but  he  was  resolved  to  make  Squire 
easy  and  to  overwhelm  that  corpse  robber,  in  case  the  old 
man  should  ever  tell  him  this  tale. 

Lacy  shelled  corn  :  "  Clear  off  a  level  place,  Squire  — 
about  a  yard  —  there,  that'll  do  ;  now,  see  here  ...  I 
make  some  rows  for  you  to  plant  corn  in  ;  now  plant 
seven  grains  in  the  first  row  —  an  inch  or  so  apart  .  .  .  no, 
don't  cover  them  !  Now,  we  begin  on  Friday ;  one  grain 
for  Friday,  one  for  Saturday,  and  so  on.  How  many  days 
in  a  week,  Squire  ?  " 


294  OLD  SQUIRE 

"Seb'n,  sah  ;  seb'n  days  in  ev'y  week." 

"  Right ;  now  plant  seven  more  in  the  next  row  ;  and 
keep  on  till  you  get  seven  in  each  row  ;  .  .  .  there  !  " 

Squire  had  succeeded  in  obeying  orders  ;  the  sweat 
stood  on  his  face  as  though  he  were  indeed  planting  corn 
in  the  warm  springtime. 

"  Now,  Squire,  I  lay  this  stick  down  at  the  end  of  these 
rows,  and  we'll  say  it's  a  fence  ;  now  what  day  do  we  call 
all  these  grains  next  to  the  fence  ?  " 

"Ev'y  one  o'  dem  grains  hit  stan's  feh  Friday,  sah." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"Yassah,  'scusin'  I  ain't  done  mek  a  misscount  an' 
ain't  got  seb'n  in  ev'y  row ;  but  den,  Mahsta,  we  don't 
plant  cawn  dat  a-way." 

"  How  so  ?     What's  wrong  ?  " 

"  We  don't  tuhn  roun'  an'  walk  back  to  de  eend,  Mahsta. 
We  dess  keeps  awn  right  aroun'  dis  a-way,"  showing  with 
his  black  finger  that  when  the  planter  ends  a  row  he  be- 
gins the  next  one  at  the  point  opposite. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  that,  Squire ;  but  we  are  supposing 
that  we  plant  this  field  in  the  other  way.  You  understand  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  I  know  w'at  shu  mean  ;  ev'y  cawn  at  de 
fence  hit  stan'  feh  Friday  —  leastways  ef  de  ain't  no  miss- 
count." 

"  Better  count  over,  and  see  if  they  are  right ;  it  won't 
do  to  make  the  least  mistake,  Squire." 

When  the  negro  had  proved  the  work,  Lacy  continued, 
"  What  church  do  your  people  belong  to,  Squire  ?  " 

"  My  mahsta,  sah  ?  De  fambly  ?  Dey  b'longs  to  de 
'Piscopal  chuhch,  sah." 


THE  PORTENT  DEFLECTED         295 

Better  than  Lacy  had  hoped  for  ;  it  would  probably 
save  him  some  labour  of  explanation. 

"  Do  you  know  when  Good  Friday  came  this  year  ?  " 

"  No,  sah,  'caze  I  waun't  at  home  den,  an'  in  de  ahmy 
dey  don't  keep  much  'count  o'  dem  days,  Mahsta." 

"  Do  you  remember  where  you  were  on  Easter  Sunday  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  I  'merubeh  we  wus  in  camp  down  dah  mos'  to 
de  Rapidan." 

"  Yes,  so  was  I.  Well,  how  many  days  is  Good  Friday 
before  Easter  ?  " 

"  Dey  is  Good  Friday,  and  den  Sadday,  an'  den  Easteh 
Sunday,  Mahsta." 

"  Now  I  want  you  to  go  and  ask  Miss  Jennie  what  day 
of  the  month  Good  Friday  fell  on  this  year,  and  don't  say 
anything  else  ;  don't  let  her  into  our  plot  at  all." 

Squire  went  and  returned.  "Miss  Jinnie  she  say  hit 
come  on  de  thihd  o'  Ap'l,  sah." 

"Yes.  I  was  hoping  so,  but  I  wanted  to  be  sure. 
How  many  days  in  April,  Squire  ?  " 

The  old  man  clenched  his  fist  and  began  to  count. 
His  system  was  that  which  begins  at  the  forefinger  and 
calls  it  the  first  month  ;  the  hollow  between  the  fingers, 
the  second  month  ;  the  knuckle  of  the  middle  finger,  the 
third  month  ;  the  hollow,  the  fourth,  and  so  on. 

"  Jinooa'y,  long  ;  Febooa'y,  shawt  ;  Mahch,  long  ; 
Ap'l,  shawt.  Hit's  a  shawt  mont',  sah  ;  Ap'l's  a  shawt 
mont'." 

"Thirty  days,  then?" 

"  Yassah,  all  dem  shawt  mont's  is  thihty  days,  'scusin' 
Febooa'y." 


296  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Well,  I  see  you  know  a  thing  or  two,  Squire.  Now 
begin  here  at  this  first  grain  ;  it  stands  for  Good  Friday, 
the  third  of  April  ;  and  you  count  on  till  you  get  to  the 
first  of  May." 

Squire  counted,  deeply  interested  in  this  exercise,  won- 
dering whereunto  it  tended,  yet  hopeful. 

"Dis  cawn,  hit's  on  de  fust  o'  May,  sah." 

"  And  is  May  short  or  long  ?  " 

"Hit's  long,  sah." 

"  Then  count  thirty-one,  and  halt  on  the  first  of  June. 
Now  be  careful,  or  you'll  spoil  everything." 

"Yassah,  I  sho'  gwine  to  go  slow  an'  git'  em  right. 
Dish  heah  cawn  he  gwine  to  be  de  fust  o'  June." 

"  And  is  June  short  or  long  ?  " 

"  Hit's  a  shawt  mont',  sah,  'caze  May's  a  long  'un." 

"Yes  ;  now  count  on  up  to  the  first  of  July." 

Squire  counted  and  halted  his  finger. 

"  Now  we're  getting  right  at  the  truth  ;  hold  your 
finger  on  that  first  of  July,  and  look  at  me.  What  day  of 
the  week  was  the  fourth  of  July  ?  " 

"  Hit  come  on  a  Sadday,  sah  ;  dat  wus  de  ve'y  day  atteh 
de  day  dat  I  done  be'n  in  dat  scrape  w'at  I  be'n  tellin' 
you  'bout." 

"  Then  the  day  of  the  fight  was  the  third  of  July  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  'caze  de  nex'  day  hit  wus  de  fou'th." 

"  Exactly  so  ;  now  what  day  do  we  call  all  these  days 
at  the  fence  ?  " 

"Friday,  sah,  an'  I  see  dish  heah  is  de  secon'  ;  an' 
dish  heah  is  de  thihd  ;  an'  he  Friday,  too,  'caze  he  at 
de  eend  o'  de  row.  How  come  dat,  Mahsta  ?  " 


THE  PORTENT  DEFLECTED          297 

"Why,  you  knew  beforehand  that  the  third  of  July 
was  Friday." 

"  Yassah,  I  knowed  it,  but  hit  don't  seem  lak  I  knowed 
it  befo'e." 

"  Now  put  a  peg  down  here  —  there  by  the  third  of 
July  ...  so.  Now  come  back  here  to  Good  Friday  .  .  . 
yes.  Now,  what  number  was  that  we  spoke  of — that  bad 
luck  number  that  works  wrong  sometimes  ? " 

"Thihteen,  sah." 

"  Very  well ;  now,  count  all  these  Fridays,  and  tell  me 
how  many  weeks  there  were  from  Good  Friday  till  the 
third  of  July." 

When  Squire,  trembling  more  and  more  as  he  pro- 
ceeded, had  made  out  that  his  portentous  day  had  fallen 
just  thirteen  weeks  after  Good  Friday,  his  amazement 
was  so  great  that  for  a  time  he  had  no  speech.  That 
Lacy  was  a  man  specially  favoured  of  supernatural  powers 
there  could  be  no  doubt.  A  man  who  could  thus,  with- 
out knowing  the  day  on  which  Squire  had  been  "  called," 
state  the  conditions  which  would  prove  that  "  call  "  in- 
tended for  another,  and  then  show  that  these  conditions 
had  existed  at  the  time,  was  something  far  beyond  the 
reach  of  his  reason,  though  not  beyond  his  faith.  When 
at  last  he  opened  his  mouth  to  speak,  Lacy  prevented  him. 

"Come  with  me,  Squire.  Lieutenant  Morgan  has  a 
calendar,  and  I'm  going  to  prove  to  you  again  that  I'm 
right." 

At  Junior's  window  the  doctor  halted,  and  called  out, 
"  Lieutenant,  please  look  at  the  almanac  and  tell  me  what 
day  of  the  month  was  Good  Friday." 


298  OLD  SQUIRE 

After  a  moment  Morgan's  face  was  seen  at  the  window. 
"  Who  is  that  you  have  there,  Doctor  ?  " 

"This  is  Squire." 

"  Ah  !  then  I  am  his  very  good  friend.  I  have  heard 
of  all  you  did,  and  you  may  just  count  on  me  to  return 
your  goodness  —  " 

Squire  was  bowing  and  scraping  — 

"  Hold  on,  Morgan  !  Tell  us  what  we  want  to  know. 
What  day  was  Good  Friday  ?  " 

The  lieutenant  fingered  his  pamphlet.  "  Third  of 
April,"  he  said. 

"And  now  please  count  how  many  weeks  there  were 
from  Good  Friday  till  the  third  of  July." 

Junior  counted,  and  said,  "  Thirteen  to  the  day." 

"  Thank  you,  Lieutenant ;  please  hand  me  a  glass,  and 
that  flask  on  the  mantel ;  and  that  box  of  powders  with 
the  red  cover.  Squire,  let  me  see  that  tongue  again." 

And  the  whiskey  that  Lacy  coloured  brown  with  some 
harmless  drug  so  quickened  the  old  man's  blood  that  he 
was  soon  singing  at  his  work,  even  forgetful,  for  the  time, 
that  he  must  follow  Barney  —  an  enormity  of  an  idea  in 
his  own  brain,  though  in  Lacy's  merely  the  recognition 
that  death,  soon  or  late,  must  come  to  each  and  all. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

AHMED    NEUTRALITY 

..."  So  thrive  I  in  my  enterprise 
And  dangerous  success  of  bloody  wars, 
As  I  intend  more  good  to  you  and  yours 
Than  ever  you  and  yours  were  by  me  wronged ! " 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

FOR  some  days  Usher  West  sat  at  his  father's  table  for 
every  meal,  but  Lacy  saw  him  at  no  other  time.  Ancient 
convictions  were  strong,  yet  the  doctor  asked  no  questions ; 
indeed,  he  feared  to  learn  certainly  that  the  young  man's 
absence  from  his  command  was  voluntary,  for  the  good 
surgeon  had  conceived  respect  for  this  modest  household. 

These  days  were  welcome  to  Morgan  and  Sency  because 
of  their  desire  to  see  Armstrong  recover  fully.  Mosby 
was  known  to  be  waiting  only  for  the  opportunity  which 
would  try  the  physical  powers  of  the  strongest. 

Meade  had  his  headquarters  at  Warrenton,  and  Lee  was 
at  Culpeper.  Federals  rode  where  they  would  in  Fau- 
quier  and  Loudoun,  and  our  party  remained  in  hiding, 
giving  their  horses  exercise  by  night,  and  prudently  keep- 
ing aloof  from  Mr.  West's.  Morgan  learned  that  his 
brother  was  allowed  to  leave  his  bed  for  a  few  hours  each 
day,  and  that  any  apprehension  of  an  advance  by  the 

299 


300  OLD  SQUIRE 

Confederates  would  cause  Dr.  Lacy  to  cut  short  his  delay 
in  removing  his  patient.  Once  again  Captain  Freeman 
had  come  to  the  house  by  night,  but  nothing  transpired 
concerning  the  nature  of  his  visit.  Old  Squire  diligently 
served  Miss  Jennie,  and  acted  as  go-between  for  the  bivouac 
and  the  residence,  making  Armstrong  alternately  hopeful 
and  despairing.  Without  reason  he  expected  Jennie  to 
send  him  some  word,  and  with  reason  feared  that  she 
cared  little  for  him.  His  agony  became  intense,  and  his 
wish  for  Junior  Morgan  to  go  became  so  strong  that  he 
urged  upon  Usher  the  scheme  of  frightening  Lacy  away 
with  rumours  of  a  contemplated  visit  by  Mosby  for  the 
purpose  of  paroling  the  Federal  officer. 

Junior  had  no  desire  to  go  ;  he  was  happiest  where  he 
was.  To  him  and  to  Jennie  the  day  of  his  departure 
would  bring  sorrow  and  not  joy.  But  for  his  devotion  to 
the  girl  he  loved,  and  with  whom  he  had  plighted  faith, 
Morgan  would  have  gone  before  Meade  had  advanced  into 
Virginia —  not  healed,  certainly,  but  in  early  convalescence, 
which  might  as  well  have  been  continued  in  Washington 
or  at  his  home  in  Schenectady. 

It  was  toward  the  middle  of  August,  almost  two  months 
since  Junior  had  been  received  into  this  true  asylum. 
Still  unable  to  use  his  sword  arm,  he  was  strong  enough, 
with  care,  to  have  ridden  horseback ;  in  an  ambulance  he 
would  have  feared  no  evil  result  in  a  removal  to  Fairfax, 
or  even  to  Washington  if  need  were.  There  was  no 
excuse  for  remaining  longer  a  burden  upon  Mr.  West. 
Morgan  was  ashamed  of  himself.  He  knew  not  how  to 
propose  remuneration  for  the  expense  and  trouble  that 


ARMED  NEUTRALITY  301 

had  been  incurred  and  undergone  on  his  account ;  he 
hoped  that  the  relationship  he  was  resolved  to  seek  would 
show  him  the  way.  Jennie,  oppressed  with  grief  and 
fears,  had  at  last  consented  that  he  appeal  to  her 
father. 

"  Mr.  West,"  said  Morgan,  "  I  must  ask  that  you  grant 
me  leave  to  speak  very  seriously." 

"  Certainly,  Lieutenant,  let  me  make  you  comfortable," 
and  the  old  gentleman  rose  and  brought  out  pillows, 
which  he  arranged  in  an  arm-chair  on  the  side  porch. 

"  I  am  so  embarrassed  by  the  great  kindness  you  have 
shown  me,  sir,  that  I  find  no  words  that  would  give 
expression  to  my  present  feeling ;  yet  I  want  you  to  know 
that  I  consider  your  conduct  very  magnanimous." 

To  this  opening  Mr.  West  gave  no  support.  His  face 
reddened.  To  be  overloaded  with  thanks  and  with 
praises  was,  perhaps,  more  embarrassing  to  himself  than 
to  the  speaker. 

Junior  found  the  silence  disheartening ;  yet  he  was  com- 
pelled to  continue. 

"  I  have  fought  against  you,  and  must  fight  again  ;  yet 
you  treat  me  more  as  a  friend  than  as  an  enemy — more  as 
a  friend  than  as  a  stranger." 

"Very  simple;  you  were  in  distress." 

"  Yes,  sir,  simple  enough  to  you,  but  a  thing  impossible 
to  many  others.  Do  you  know,  sir,  that  I  have  feared  in 
vain  that  I  should  see  a  look  of  impatience  or  annoyance 
in  regard  to  my  poor  self  ?  I  am  oversensitive,  no  doubt, 
and  my  dread  that  my  intrusion  would  call  up  resentment 
on  your  part  has  been  great,  perhaps  even  disrespectful  to 


302  OLD  SQUIRE 

you.  I  have  been  here  so  long  that  many  unguarded 
moments  must  have  come  when  one  in  your  place,  who 
was  merely  acting  the  part  of  hospitality,  must  have 
shown  that  he  was  acting ;  yet  at  no  time  have  I  felt  from 
you  any  displeasure  or  even  difficulty.  But  my  judg- 
ment tells  me  that  caring  for  me  has  been  difficult,  and  I 
beg  that  I  may  be  allowed  to  —  " 

"  Stop,  Lieutenant,"  exclaimed  Mr.  West,  though  in  a 
mild  tone  ;  "if  I  have  done  any  good,  I  don't  want  to 
lose  the  comfort  of  it." 

"  Sir,  you  may  easily  understand  the  difficulty  that  I 
find  in  this  matter  ;  yet  I  obey  you,  and  will  consent  to 
remain  forever  obliged  to  you." 

"Maybe  the  tables  will  be  turned  some  day,  Lieuten- 
ant. I  have  a  son,  and  if  you  should  ever  be  able  to  help 
him  out  of  trouble,  I  am  confident  of  your  doing  it." 

"Yes,  sir,  and  I  am  greatly  afraid  that  you  will  see 
suffering  yourself,  Mr.  West.  It  may  be  a  strange  thing 
for  a  Union  soldier  to  say,  sir  ;  but  since  I  have  seen  some- 
thing of  the  life  here  in  this  house,  nothing  but  the  severe 
command  of  duty  can  hereafter  make  me  raise  my  hand 
against  your  people." 

"But  they  are  your  people,  as  well.  Perhaps  the 
knowledge  that  you  are  Southern  born  has  something  to 
do  with  it." 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  you  are  wrong.  I  know  that  the 
war  has  become  to  me  a  great  tragedy,  and  only  a  tragedy. 
Formerly  there  was  some  insane  pleasure  in  the  excite- 
ment ;  now,  everything  becomes  mischievous  and  repug- 
nant." 


ARMED  NEUTRALITY  303 

"Yet  you  expect  to  continue." 

"  Of  course  I  understand  that  you  say  that  without  con- 
demnation, for  you  know  it  to  be  my  duty  to  continue  to 
serve  what  I  believe  is  the  right.  Yes,  I  must  continue, 
though  it  break  my  heart." 

"Lieutenant,  the  doctor  tells  me  that  you  will  soon 
leave  us." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Would  it  please  you  to  leave  any  message,  or  any  let- 
ter for  your  brother,  on  the  chance  of  my  being  able  here- 
after to  send  it  to  him?"  Mr.  West  was  feeling  the 
Federal ;  he  knew  that  Sergeant  Morgan  was  near  by  ;  if 
the  Federal's  answer  should  be  propitious,  a  meeting  might 
be  arranged  for. 

"  If  you  should  see  him,  Mr.  West,  kindly  tell  him  that 
I  think  of  him  as  a  brother  ;  the  differences  between  us 
are  but  political,  and  amount  to  nothing  in  my  sight.  I 
beg  you  to  thank  him  for  his  kindness,  and  to  say  that  I 
pray  for  the  war  to  end,  so  that  I  may  meet  him  and  show 
him  ever  after  what  I  feel."  Sobs  were  in  Morgan's 
voice,  and  tears  in  the  older  man's  eyes. 

"And  now,  sir,  I  am  compelled  to  beg  more  of  you." 

Mr.  West  looked  inquiringly. 

"  Before  I  ask  more,  however,  I  must  put  you  in  posses- 
sion of  some  facts.  You  know  something  of  my  birth,  and 
a  little  of  myself.  My  home,  sir,  is  in  Schenectady,  New 
York  ;  my  reputed  grandfather  —  who  adopted  me — left 
to  me,  as  he  supposed,  in  the  name  of  Daniel  Morgan,  a 
considerable  estate.  Perhaps  you  have  heard  something 
of  this  also.  That  property  at  a  low  estimate  might  be 


304  OLD  SQUIRE 

valued  at  four  hundred  thousand  dollars.  I  am  telling 
you  this,  sir,  for  a  purpose  ;  if  I  did  not  think  that  you 
had  heard  something  of  it,  I  would  not  mention  it  now. 
That  property  I  do  not  consider  mine  ;  it  was  left,  sup- 
posedly to  me  ;  it  was  left,  really  to  Daniel  Morgan,  and 
I  intend  to  see  that  he  gets  it.  If  he  is  alive  when  the 
war  ends,  it  shall  be  his  ;  it  shall  be  his,  or  his  heirs'.  I 
shall  have  nothing.  And  now,  Mr.  West,  you  see  how 
poor  a  man  it  is  who  comes  to  you  and  begs  for  your 
daughter." 

Mr.  West  sprang  to  his  feet.  He  had  indeed  suspected 
a  slight  admiration  for  Jennie,  but  had  certainly  not  looked 
for  this  declaration.  His  mind  had  been  fixed  on  Charles 
Armstrong  as  his  daughter's  husband,  —  an  arrangement 
positively  suitable,  —  and  he  had  regarded  the  matter 
as  nearly  fixed  as  such  can  be.  Yet,  in  an  instant  he  had 
been  moved  by  the  proud  sufferer  before  him  ;  this  Fed- 
eral was  the  queerest  claimant  in  love  matters  that  he  had 
ever  heard  of  or  read  of,  —  a  man  who  voluntarily  declared 
a  determination  to  surrender  what  most  men  demand  in 
sons-in-law, — a  man  to  stubbornly  assert  that  he  should 
continue  to  fight  against  the  South,  and  such  high  princi- 
ple appealed  powerfully  to  him.  If  Junior  had  come  to 
him  showing  himself  rich,  offering  allurement,  the  old 
man  would  have  spurned  the  suitor  ;  the  Federal  had  be- 
come glorious  in  his  eyes,  yet  it  may  be  pardoned  to  the 
Southerner  that  his  first  thought  had  been  the  equality  of 
the  Virginian  with  the  best.  He  exclaimed  :  — 

"  By  God,  sir !  Dan  Morgan  wouldn't  touch  a  cent  of 
your  property." 


ARMED  NEUTRALITY  305 

Then  Mr.  West  sat  down  and  said,  "  Excuse  me,  but  do 
you  believe  that  one  of  your  blood  would  consent  to  the 
sacrifice  you  would  make  ?  " 

Morgan  was  puzzled  ;  though  he  had  indeed  thought 
of  this  phase  of  the  matter,  not  very  seriously,  however, 
his  difficulty  came  from  the  seeming  avoidance  of  the  main 
subject. 

"  What  would  you  do  in  his  place  ? "  asked  Mr. 
West. 

"  I  hope,  sir,  that  I  would  act  justly  and  honourably  in 
any  case  and  every  case." 

Yet  Junior's  eyes  had  kindled  with  pleasure  in  hearing 
his  brother's  principle  defended.  He  continued,  "  It  is  a 
question  of  right  and  wrong,  in  which  the  right  is  on  his 
side." 

"  I  don't  look  at  it  that  way,"  said  Mr.  West.  "  Likely 
enough,  at  the  first,  your  grandfather's  attachment  to  you 
came  from  his  belief  that  you  were  Daniel  Morgan ;  but 
when  he  made  you  his  heir,  he  had  become  attached  to 
you  irrespective  of  names.  To  all  intents  and  purposes 
you  were  Daniel  Morgan ;  and  if  he  had  learned  before  he 
made  his  will  that  you  were  the  wrong  brother,  no  doubt 
he  still  would  have  made  you  his  heir." 

Was  the  old  man  arguing  his  daughter  into  the  position 
of  a  rich  man's  wife  ? 

"  That  may  be  possible,  Mr.  West ;  still  it  is  only  theory, 
and  I  cannot  accept  it  as  against  the  great  reality  that  the 
will  names  Daniel  Morgan  as  the  heir.  Yet  these  ques- 
tions, Mr.  West,  interesting  and  important  as  they  are, 
have  not  a  tithe  of  importance  and  interest  to  my  mind 


306  OLD  SQUIRE 

compared  with  my  great  wish  to  enter  into  the  relationship 
with  you  which  I  have  already  sought  at  your  hands." 

Again  Mr.  West  rose,  not  as  before,  but  slowly  and 
with  seeming  reluctance.  He  stood  by  the  Federal  offi- 
cer, on  whose  head  he  laid  his  large  rough  hand,  and  his 
voice  trembled  as  he  spoke. 

"  My  boy,"  he  said,  "  I  hate  to  grieve  you,  I'll  swear  I 
do ;  but  I  must,  sir.  I  can  never  consent  for  my  daughter 
to  marry  an  enemy  of  her  country." 

Outside,  the  world  glittered  in  the  August  sunlight. 
South  and  east  the  mountains  hid  the  devastated  fields  of 
Virginia,  under  whose  sod  rested  thousands  of  the  sons  of 
the  South,  and  thousands  of  her  invaders.  Beyond  the 
end  of  the  range  was  an  armed  host  seeking  devices  for 
causing  the  most  successful  destruction,  and  of  this  host 
the  lover  would  soon  be  a  part  once  more. 

"  But  after  the  war  ?  "  Morgan  pleaded. 

Mr.  West  again  took  his  seat.     He  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  sir ;  the  best  you  can  do  for  yourself  is  to  quit 
thinking  of  it.  My  answer  has  been  given.  You  have 
spoken  to  my  daughter  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  and  my  weakness  is  my  only  excuse.  She 
was  a  very  ministering  angel,  and  I  could  not  withhold." 

"  Oh,  as  for  that,  don't  give  yourself  any  trouble.  I  am 
not  the  party  of  the  first  part." 

Mr.  West's  voice  had  changed.  He  understood  now 
that  he  was  bringing  sorrow  on  the  one  he  most  loved. 
He  looked  at  Morgan  and  saw  his  face  very  white,  his 
hand  over  his  eyes.  The  silence  was  grievous  ;  both  men 
were  suffering. 


ARMED  NEUTRALITY  307 

Morgan  was  first  to  speak.  "Your  will  shall  be  re- 
spected, sir.  I  have  too  great  obligations  to  you  to  cause 
you  any  displeasure.  Yet  before  I  go,"  he  added,  rising, 
"I  would  ask  permission  to  tell  Miss  Jennie  your  decision." 

"  So  be  it,"  was  the  answer. 

The  night  came,  and  Morgan  was  discussing  with  Lacy 
the  preparations  for  their  departure.  Mr.  West  was  alone 
out  in  the  porch,  thinking  with  little  pleasure  about  many 
things.  The  farm  was  almost  a  failure ;  he  had  been  able 
to  get  help  at  planting  time,  when  the  armies  were  facing 
each  other  across  the  Rappahannock  at  Fredericksburg, 
fifty  miles  away ;  but  the  demoralization  resulting  when 
Lee  and  Hooker  moved  northward  in  June  had  thrown 
the  crop  far  behind  for  lack  of  labour ;  still  he  hoped  for 
enough  to  supply  his  own  and  Jennie's  simple  needs. 
The  wheat  had  been  good ;  some  had  been  lost  at  the 
critical  moment  of  harvest,  but  there  was  enough.  This 
war,  with  its  fluctuations, — wave  after  wave  rolling  for- 
ward and  back  over  North  Virginia, —  showed  no  abate- 
ment. Lee  had  gone  back,  but  would  come  again.  He  had 
no  doubt  that  Lee  would  come  again ;  yet  the  Yankees 
showed  such  determination  that  he  feared  the  war  had 
just  begun.  It  was  hard  on  the  women,  he  knew,  and  as 
hard  on  Jennie  as  on  any  one  of  them,  harder  than  on 
most.  He  doubted  that  he  ought  to  allow  her  to  stay 
here.  His  mind  went  back  to  his  youth  and  early  man- 
hood ;  to  his  love  for  Jennie's  mother  —  his  only  passion  ; 
to  her  death,  and  he  sighed  grievously. 

There  was  a  step  behind  him,  and  then  soft  arms  were 
about  his  neck  and  Jennie's  head  rested  against  his  own. 


308  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Father  !  " 

The  word  was  a  sigh.  He  drew  her  around,  and  she 
sat  on  the  arm  of  his  chair. 

"Jennie,  it  breaks  me  all  up,  my  girl." 

"  Not  even  after  the  war,  Father  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Jennie,  that  is  a  long  time.  This  war  may  last 
ten  years.  And  I  thought  it  was  to  be  Charley." 

"No,  sir,  I  never  cared  for  him.  He  made  me  tell 
him  so  before  he  left." 

"  What  ?  Well,  well,  how  you  young  people  do  de- 
ceive us.  And  so  you  are  willing  to  take  this  Yankee  ?  " 

"  Don't  call  him  a  Yankee,  Father.  You  know  he  was 
born  in  Virginia." 

"Yes,  but  he  fights  against  Virginia." 

"  What  would  you  do  in  his  place  ?  "  she  asked,  using 
what  she  knew  was  his  own  familiar  weapon. 

"I  suppose  I  should  fall  in  love  with  you,  Jennie." 

"But  I  mean  which  side  would  you  fight  for?  Does 
he  owe  as  much  to  the  South  as  he  does  to  the 
North?" 

"  I  can't  say  that  he  does  ;  but  it  seems  to  me  there 
are  enough  men  in  the  North  without  his  help.  Yet  I 
confess  that  every  man  must  be  his  own  judge  and 
conscience  keeper  ;  and  the  young  fellow  has  acted  very 
well,  I  can't  deny  that." 

"  Father !  " 

"  What  is  it,  my  child  ?  " 

"  He  is  getting  ready  to  go." 

"  And  you  want  to  keep  him  ?  Oh,  little  girl,  you 
want  to  leave  your  old  father?" 


ARMED   NEUTRALITY  309 

She  broke  down  for  one  moment,  and  laid  her  head  on 
his  shoulder. 

"You  know  I  would  never  leave  you.  But  after  the 
war,  Father  ?  Then  we  can  all  live  together,"  and  she  whis- 
pered, "he  has  promised  to  become  a  Virginian  then." 

"How  do  you  know,  Jennie,  that  you  can  trust  him 
so  long?  Indeed,  it  may  be  ten  years." 

"  If  he  cannot  wait  ten  years,  then  I  shall  be  grieved ; 
but  I  shall  say  that  his  love  had  been  very  light." 

"  And  you  would  wait  ten  years  ?  " 

"  Father,  I  shall  not  marry  anybody  unless  I  marry 
him,  and  I  won't  do  that  if  you  forbid.  Would  you  prefer 
that  I  never  marry  ?  " 

"I  told  him,  dear,  that  my  consent  could  never  be 
given  to  your  marrying  an  enemy  ;  but  at  the  same  time 
I'm  not  going  to  give  you  any  command  in  this  matter." 

"Father,  what  would  you  think  of  him  if  he  were  to 
turn  his  back  on  the  North  and  join  our  army  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  know  such  is  not  to  be  thought  of,  either  by 
himself  or  by  any  one.  It  is  simply  his  misfortune  to 
be  on  the  wrong  side,  and  I'm  fearing  that  you  feel  it 
your  misfortune  also.  But  I'm  not  going  to  try  to  con- 
strain you,  and  for  your  part  you  must  not  expect  me 
to  tell  you  a  lie  and  say  that  my  consent  is  freely  given. 
Are  you  determined  to  marry  him  ?  " 

"Father,  he  thinks  so  much  of  you  that  I  know  he 
will  never  ask  me  again,  unless  he  should  believe  you 
were  willing." 

"  Then  it's  a  hard  case,  Jennie.  I  don't  know  how  I 
can  be  willing  when  I'm  unwilling." 


310  OLD  SQUIRE 

She  bent  down  and  kissed  him.  "  But  are  you  not 
unwilling  also  to  —  "  she  paused. 

"  To  what,  dear  ?  " 

"  To  see  me  serve  him  so  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  You  mean  to  ask  if  I  am  not  unwilling  to  cause 
you  sorrow  ?  " 

"I  know  you  are." 

"  Jennie,  if  what  you  wish  from  me  is  merely  a  state- 
ment that  my  objection  to  him  is  not  so  great  as  my 
desire  for  your  happiness,  I  make  that  statement  at 
once." 

"  And  after  the  war  you  will  make  no  objection  ?  " 

"  Well,  my  child,  I  see  you  are  bent  on  it.  Of  course 
I  can't  tell  how  I'm  going  to  feel  after  the  war,  and  I 
can't  know  how  he  is  going  to  behave  himself  all  that 
long  while ;  but  I'll  say  this,  that  if  you  are  both  of  the 
same  mind  then,  and  nothing  else  will  content  my  daugh- 
ter, I  won't  say  a  word,  —  and  that's  what  I've  been  telling 
you  all  the  time,  —  I  won't  do  a  thing  against  it.  But  I 
can't  promise  you  to  feel  differently.  Won't  that  answer 
satisfy  you  ?  " 

"  And  you  will  let  me  see  him  again  and  tell  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  see  him  and  tell  him,  and  let  him  know 
that  I  count  on  his  doing  me  —  no  !  don't  tell  him  that  — 
I  can  trust  him  ;  that's  one  thing  I  can  say  for  that  young 
man." 

And  so  it  resulted  that  Lacy  and  Morgan  would  linger, 
yet  only  for  a  few  days  more.  Mr.  West  showed  no 
evidence  of  displeasure  or  anxiety  in  regard  to  the 
matter ;  and  Junior  was  exceedingly  happy  over  the 


ARMED  NEUTRALITY  311 

small  degree  of  favour  that  had  been  shown  him,  and 
swore  to  himself  that  he  would  win  a  yet  greater  degree. 
On  this  night  Tom  Baxter,  barely  halting  on  his  round, 
brought  word  to  Usher  that  Mosby  had  ordered  an  assem- 
bling of  his  men  near  Wilson's  for  the  night  following. 
Little  was  needed  to  make  preparation  complete,  and  on 
the  next  morning  old  Squire  went  as  usual  to  the  farm- 
house ;  he  was  to  return  early  that  he  might  accompany 
his  master  upon  the  unknown  expedition.  Armstrong, 
uncertain  as  to  the  time  required  for  the  enterprise  or 
the  result,  which  might  indeed  be  death  or  captivity  to 
any  or  to  all,  could  restrain  himself  no  longer,  and  though 
Usher  succeeded  in  preventing  him  from  going  in  person, 
he  wrote  a  note  to  Jennie,  to  which  Squire  brought  back 
a  reply.  She  told  Armstrong  simply  and  kindly  that  his 
suit  could  not  succeed,  and  begged  him  to  accept  the 
answer  as  final ;  and  Usher,  who  had  seen  Squire  deliver 
the  answer,  and  saw  Armstrong  seize  upon  it  eagerly,  saw 
also  the  reader  change  expression  from  one  of  intense 
anxiety  to  that  of  deep  mortification  and  despair. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

THE   PABTISANS 

"  Lor.  Who  comes  so  fast  in  silence  of  the  night  ? 
Steph.  A  friend. 

Lor.  A  friend  !     What  friend  ?    Your  name  I  pray  you,  friend  ?  " 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  vague  and  variable  force  known  as  Mosby's 
battalion,  though  strong  in  its  entire  enrolment,  was 
weak  in  its  active  strength  at  any  one  period.  Doubtless, 
from  first  to  last,  more  than  two  thousand  men  took  part 
in  some  enterprise  of  the  band  ;  yet  very  many  of  these 
were  mere  accidents  of  the  day  —  enlisted  men  that  had 
been  cut  off  for  the  time  being  from  their  own  regiments 
which  they  rejoined  as  soon  as  they  were  able  or  willing  ; 
others,  on  furlough  from  wounds  or  illness,  whose  conva- 
lescence was  sufficient  for  momentary  exertion  that  carried 
stimulus  with  it,  but  complacently  considered  inadequate 
for  the  tedium  of  the  great  camp  ;  others  still  that  came 
no  one  knew  whence  and  departed  of  their  own  volition  ; 
even  some,  perhaps,  that  were  deserters  from  the  Federal 
army.1  The  few  that  the  major  trusted  were  expected 
to  gather  as  many  men  as  the  contemplated  achievement 

1  See  General  Pleasonton's  Report,  quoted  August  10,  1863,  by  General 
A.  A.  Humphreys,  Chief  of  Staff. 

312 


THE   PARTISANS  313 

seemed  to  demand,  or  rather,  it  should  be  said,  as  few 
men  as  the  leader  thought  would  be  indispensable,  so 
that  on  some  expeditions  Mosby  led  perhaps  hundreds, 
while  on  others  his  followers  were  but  scores,  or  even 
fewer  ;  hence,  it  resulted  that  his  minor  undertakings 
were  almost  uniformly  brilliant  and  successful,  while 
those  of  greater  magnitude  frequently  failed,  the  larger 
number  involved  lacking  the  coherency  of  a  small  body 
composed  of  his  best  and  most  experienced  men. 

As  night  fell  once  more,  Usher  West  led  his  party  out 
of  Goose  Creek  swamp  in  a  northerly  direction.  The 
way  was  narrow  and  winding,  overhung  at  first  by  great 
oaks  and  elms,  through  which  the  filtered  starlight  barely 
showed  the  leaf -strewn  path  that  muffled  the  horses'  foot- 
fall. Every  man  here  knew  more  or  less  of  this  district ; 
it  was  the  boyhood  home  of  three,  and  they  had  not  made 
half  a  mile  when  even  to  Armstrong's  preoccupied  mind 
it  became  evident  that  their  course  was  leading  directly 
away  from  the  rendezvous  that  day  given. 

"  Usher,  how  long  you  going  to  keep  this  road  ?  "  he 
asked,  thinking  that  their  guide  was  purposely  throwing 
any  possible  enemy  off  the  scent. 

"  Keep  it  a  good  while,"  said  West,  and  rode  on. 

"Well,  it's  not  the  right  way." 

"  We'll  get  there  all  the  same." 

"  If  we  do,  we'll  have  to  turn  off  up  yonder  at  Adams's." 

But  at  Adams's  Usher  went  directly  on,  and  now  he 
condescended  to  say  :  "  Boys,  I  reckon  I  may  as  well  tell 
you  that  we  don't  go  to  Wilson's  at  all.  That  was  all  a 
blind,  so  that  if  anybody  blabbed  it  would  do  no  harm. 


314  OLD  SQUIRE 

You  just  follow  me,  and  I'll  take  you  through  all 
right." 

And  soon  Usher's  pace  almost  imperceptibly  began  to 
quicken.  They  had  started  at  a  slow  walk,  as  nearly 
noiseless  as  possible.  They  had  once  or  twice  diverged 
from  the  route,  and  had  returned  to  it  farther  on,  thus 
avoiding  habitations.  In  this  gathering,  secrecy  must  be 
the  very  greatest  at  the  beginning,  and  celerity  must  be 
the  greatest  at  the  moment  of  organizing.  On  this  night 
a  score  of  small  groups,  twos  and  threes,  were  coming 
from  as  many  points  of  a  circle  to  meet  in  a  common 
centre,  and  the  more  nearly  that  each  approached  that 
centre,  the  less  danger  to  each  and  the  greater  to  all 
should  they  dally.  So  Usher  West  and  his  companions 
rode  with  speed  ever  increasing,  until  Morgan,  who  had 
not  yet  taken  part  in  any  of  Mosby's  raids,  began  to  fear 
lest  the  efficiency  of  their  horses  should  be  impaired 
before  actual  work  was  needed,  and  he  spoke  his  fear  to 
West,  who  answered  that  the  meeting  and  organizing 
would  require  time  in  which  the  horses  could  rest,  adding 
that  sometimes  organization  was  effected  while  on  the 
march  itself,  —  by  preconcerted  arrangement  the  routes 
being  designated  for  each  of  the  groups  to  take,  in  order 
to  intercept  the  line  of  main  advance  at  points  convenient, 
—  but  that  on  this  night,  after  a  long  interval  in  which  the 
band  had  not  assembled,  preference  had  been  given  to  the 
former  method. 

They  were  now  on  a  main  highway,  and  when  their 
horses  trod  a  sandy  stretch  of  the  road,  they  could  hear 
galloping  that  seemed  to  preserve  its  distance  —  some 


THE  PARTISANS  315 

man  ahead  hurrying  to  the  rendezvous,  and  in  a  little 
while  a  voice  came  from  the  front,  and  there  was  silence 
—  no  hoofs  beating,  the  man  ahead  halting  to  answer 
the  challenge  of  a  sentinel. 

Two  hundred  yards  farther,  and  West's  party  came 
to  an  abrupt  halt,  a  clear  voice  crying,  "  Who  comes 
there  ?  " 

"Friends  with  the  countersign." 

"  Halt,  friends  ;  advance  one,  with  the  counter- 
sign." 

Usher  rode  forward  ;  but  there  was  no  need  to  give  the 
password  —  the  sentinel  knew  him. 

"  Hello,  Ush  !     How  many  you  got  ?  " 

"  Four  more.     Where's  the  major  ?  " 

"  Down  at  the  mill.  Better  be  lively.  He's  a  hornet 
to-night.  Crowd  from  above  not  heard  from  yet." 

"  Hell  you  say  !     How  long  you  reckon  he'll  wait  ?  " 

Passing  the  sentinel,  Usher  again  took  up  the  gallop  ; 
the  rendezvous  was  yet  a  mile  away,  for  Mosby  kept 
watch  all  round  him  and  far.  But  soon  the  main  road 
was  forsaken.  At  a  slower  pace  the  squad  went  down  a 
steep  slope  to  the  right,  and  on  this  hillside  they  were 
again  halted,  and  subjected  here  to  longer  delay. 

"  That  nigger  o'  yours,  West ;  I'm  going  to  keep  him 
here  till  you  bring  me  the  major's  word." 

"All  right;  Squire,  you  stay  here  a  few  minutes." 
The  white  men  rode  on  down  the  hill. 

The  old  negro  had  no  fears.  "  Mahsta,  I's  be'n  th'ough 
de  bresh  mo'n  oncet.  I's  de  same  ole  niggeh  dat  showed 
Ginnle  Stuaht  de  haidquahtehs  o'  dat  big  Yankee  ginnle 


316  OLD  SQUIRE 

lash  yeah,  way  back  yandeh  mos'  to  de  railroad,  down 
yandeh  by  Cedah  Run." 

"  Oh,  yes,  Uncle  ;  I  reckon  you're  all  right ;  but  then 
you  know  I  got  to  obey  orders." 

"  Yassah,  so  I  is  too  ;  but  I  gwine  to  gid  down  an'  res' 
dis  ole  mule  ef  you  don't  mine  ;  I  be'n  a  runnin'  dis  mule 
feh  who  las'  de  longes'." 

"All  right,  dismount  if  you  like,"  said  the  sentinel. 

"  I  boun'  to  git  me  a  hoss  dis  time  ;  'f  I  hadn'  ha'  mos' 
beat  dis  mule  to  def,  Mahs  Chahley  an'  all  'ould  ha'  lef 
me  way  behime.  I  ain't  nuvveh  be'n  right  in  my  mine 
sence  dat  day  I  hatto  leave  my  hoss  oveh  in  Mellan'  an' 
Penns'vania.  You  be'n  oveh  dah,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  Not  lately  ;  but  you  mustn't  talk,  Uncle." 

"Yassah,  ef  dat's  ag'in  de  rule,  den  I  ain't  a-gwine  to 
talk  no  mo'e,  Mahsta." 

West,  with  Morgan,  Sency,  Armstrong,  and  Lewis,  was 
in  the  presence  of  John  S.  Mosby  :  a  thin  wiry  man,  with 
a  sandy  beard,  his  face  shaded  by  a  soft  black  hat  around 
which  curved  a  great  ostrich  plume.  He  was  in  full  gray 
uniform,  and  was  seated  at  a  small  table,  one  candle  dimly 
lighting  the  whitened  walls  and  pillars  ;  outside  was  the 
sound  of  rushing  waters. 

"  Five  of  us,  Major,"  says  West,  saluting. 

"  Good !  Why,  Morgan,  how  are  you  ?  Haven't 
seen  you  since  I  left  the  general.  And  there's  Sency, 
too.  Oh,  yes,  I  remember  you  very  well ;  you  were 
with  us  in  Maryland  once.  And  who  are  these  ?  " 

"  Charley  Armstrong  and  Joe  Lewis,  of  the  First,  Major," 
said  Morgan,  "and  we  have  old  Squire  with  us.  Don't 


THE  PARTISANS  317 

you  remember  his  showing  us  Pope's  headquarters  last 
year  near  Auburn  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  I  do.  And  I  know  Lewis  like  a  book. 
Yes,  and  I  can  recall  Armstrong  now.  You  are  the  big 
man  who  attacked  the  bridge  at  Cedar  Run.  .  .  .  Well, 
men,  make  yourselves  easy.  We  can  hardly  make  a  start 
before  midnight.  Our  people  from  above  are  delayed  for 
some  reason,  and  I'll  give  'em  a  chance  ;  but  we  start  not 
later  than  midnight,  and  I  want  you  men  of  the  First  to 
ride  at  the  front.  Remember  that,  now ;  eight  men 
will  ride  half  a  mile  in  front,  and  you'll  be  four  of  them." 

One  other  officer  was  in  the  room,  Lieutenant  Turner. 
For  a  short  while  Mosby  retained  West ;  the  others  of 
Morgan's  squad  went  out.  The  horses  were  unsaddled, 
were  watered  and  fed  —  no  telling  when  there  would  be 
time  for  the  next  feeding.  Old  Squire  was  released,  and 
together  the  party  rested,  with  groups  of  men  all  round 
them  on  the  hillside,  most  of  them  very  quiet,  but  here 
and  there  one  busy  with  his  weapons. 

The  numbers  were  growing  ;  the  door  of  the  mill  fre- 
quently showed  forms  entering  and  retiring.  Perhaps 
two  hours  had  gone  by,  when  a  confused  noise  began,  and 
then  a  scramble  for  the  horses.  No  loud  order  had  been 
given  ;  the  word  was  passed  from  man  to  man.  And 
now  there  was  no  light  in  the  mill. 

Morgan  knew  that  midnight  had  not  yet  come.  West 
whispered  that  the  delayed  party  had  succeeded  in  send- 
ing a  man  to  tell  that  they  were  cut  off  by  the  enemy  and 
must  disband;  the  march  would  begin  without  them. 

Somehow,  a  straggling  column  was  formed,  each  irregu- 


818  OLD  SQUIRE 

lar  group  recognizing  some  familiar  leader.  West  had 
urged  forward  ;  the  column  was  moving.  Yet  in  motion, 
West  found  Mosby  at  the  front. 

"  You  four  men  lead,"  said  the  commander,  "  you  four 
in  uniform.  West,  give  them  leeway  and  give  them 
complete  instructions.  You  ride  behind  them  in  speaking 
distance." 

"  But  old  Squire,  Major.  What  shall  I  do  with  him  ?  " 
asked  West. 

"  Do  just  what  you  proposed.  I  have  thought  over  it, 
and  it's  the  thing." 

The  column  was  moving  at  a  trot. 

"  Half  a  mile  !  "  cried  Usher,  and  his  companions  fol- 
lowed him  at  a  gallop. 

On  the  summit  of  a  high  hill  whence  they  looked  east- 
ward West  called  for  slower  speed. 

"  Far  enough  ahead,  boys.  Now,  Sergeant,  the  major 
gives  you  charge  of  the  advance.  If  you  run  into  the 
Yankees  before  we  get  down  to  the  pike,  you  may  get 
away  if  you  can ;  but  you  must  make  a  big  noise  that  can 
be  heard  behind  you.  If  you  should  be  taken,  your  uni- 
forms will  make  'em  think  Stuart  is  coming.  Tell  'em 
you  belong  to  Lee's  brigade.  Squire  is  to  go  first ;  you 
four  boys  behind  Squire  a  hundred  yards ;  I  ride  behind 
you  a  hundred  yards.  Now,  Squire,  you  mustn't  let  us 
run  into  any  trap  ;  you  must  go  first,  you  hear  ?  " 

"  Yassah ,  de  good  book  hit  say  de  las'  gwine  to  go 
fust,  but  I  dunno  whah  you  all  is  a-gwine  to,  an'  I  dunno 
whah  to  tuhn  off,  an'  I  dunno  whah  not  to  tuhn  off." 

"  Don't  turn  off  at  all  unless  we  let  you  know.     We'll 


THE  PARTISANS  319 

keep  you  in  sight,  and  won't  let  you  go  wrong.  And 
after  a  while  we're  going  slow,  and  then  I'm  going  to  tell 
you  more.  And  if  you  do  this  job  up  brown  you're  going 
to  get  more  horses  than  you  can  take  keer  of  —  the  major 
says  you  shall  have  a  full  share.  Now  light  out !  " 

Old  Squire  lit  out.  It  is  true  that  he  was  nervous 
enough,  but  looking  back  he  saw  his  master  and  his  mas- 
ter's friends  following  in  speaking  distance,  and  he  was 
comforted. 

West,  clad  as  a  civilian,  rode  some  eighty  yards  behind 
Morgan's  squad  ;  close  behind  West  came  four  other  men 
in  Confederate  uniform  ;  behind  these,  but  almost  half  a 
mile  away,  rode  Mosby,  ever  active  in  improving  and  pre- 
serving order. 

***##»# 

A  train  of  forty  wagons  was  on  its  way  from  Alexan- 
dria to  Warrenton,  with  supplies  for  General  Meade's 
army,  under  the  protection  of  a  squadron  of  cavalry. 
The  first  night  there  had  been  a  halt  at  Fairfax,  where 
there  was  a  strong  force  ;  now  the  train  was  two  days  out 
from  Alexandria  ;  by  noon  of  the  next  day  it  would  be 
safe  in  Warrenton.  The  ground  where  the  wagons  had 
been  parked  was  of  irregular  shape — a  stream  flowing  in 
a  loop  at  the  east,  a  stream  with  steep  banks,  within  the 
loop  an  excellent  ground  for  the  protection  of  the  train. 
On  the  far  side  of  the  creek  pickets  had  been  posted,  the 
main  body  of  cavalry  being  held  a  little  to  the  right  of 
the  Warrenton  pike,  pickets  north  and  south  of  the  road, 
west  also,  in  the  woods.  There  was  but  the  minimum  of 
apprehension,  for  the  force  was  sufficient  to  overpower 


320  OLD  SQUIRE 

any  gang  of  bushwhackers  that  might  be  supposed  to 
infest  the  mountains,  while  Stuart's  entire  division  of 
cavalry  was  known  to  be  south  of  the  Rappahannock  ; 
as  for  Mosby,  he  had  been  heard  of  beyond  the  Blue 
Ridge  only  the  day  before. 

The  fires,  kindled  for  cooking  only,  had  long  since  died 
out,  but  in  the  open  the  white  covers  of  the  wagons  were 
distinct  in  the  starlight.  Right  of  the  road  were  the 
picketed  horses  of  the  squadron — two  long  rows — side  by 
side,  now  and  then  some  raw  recruit  of  a  horse  expressing 
the  restiveness  not  yet  subdued  by  the  discipline  of  weary 
marches  and  short  provender.  Between  the  wagons  and 
the  rows  of  horses  lay  a  group  of  officers,  their  horses, 
only  four,  picketed  close  in  their  rear. 

Braying  mules  had  ceased  to  bray,  and  there  was  little 
noise  in  the  camp,  the  men  having  long  ago  settled  down 
to  rest.  Earlier,  a  small  body  of  cavalry,  protecting 
ambulances  loaded  with  sick,  had  passed  through  from 
Warrenton  en  route  to  Alexandria.  These  people  had 
told  that  they  would  encamp  beyond  Gainesville  ;  the 
weather  was  hot  and  the  sick  men  could  stand  the 
journey  better  in  the  early  hours  of  the  day  and  night. 

The  sentinel  on  the  Warrenton  pike,  west  of  the  camp, 
thought  that  the  time  for  his  relief  was  long  in  coming. 
He  had  stood  here  from  seven  until  nine,  then  had 
rested  until  one  ;  the  sun  would  rise  but  little  after 
five,  and  he  imagined  that  he  could  see  signs  of  day  — 
a  mere  fancy  of  impatience,  for  his  relief  would  not 
come  until  three  ;  but  then,  you  know,  the  hours  of 
sentry  duty,  after  a  hot  march  in  the  long  days,  drag 


THE  PARTISANS  321 

themselves  out  beyond  all  sense  or  reason,  and  it  was 
only  natural  for  this  man  to  swear,  and  wonder  if  all 
the  guard  had  gone  to  sleep  and  left  him  here  to  do 
more  than  his  duty. 

The  sound  of  hoof-beats  almost  succeeded  in  interrupt- 
ing a  yawn.  "  Comin'  at  last,"  he  thought. 

He  straightened  up  on  his  horse  in  order  to  appear 
vigilant  and  to  receive  the  sergeant  with  appropriate 
ceremony. 

The  sound  had  died  away.  "Just  now  started,  by 
God  !  "  he  muttered,  and  sank  almost  double  again,  his 
chin  on  his  breast. 

But  the  chin  remained  thus  low  for  only  a  moment. 
From  the  southwest,  toward  Meade's  army,  there  had 
come  to  the  sentinel's  ear  confused  sounds — sounds  such 
as  he  had  heard  when,  left  on  post,  his  own  company 
had  ridden  by  on  a  hard  road  far  at  his  front,  sounds 
such  as  he  had  heard  in  this  night,  when  the  cavalry 
escort  of  the  ambulances  had  approached  his  post. 

Yet  these  noises  also  died  away,  or  at  least  he  heard 
them  no  longer  mentally,  his  head  now  full  of  an  ap- 
proaching object,  which  soon  took  the  form  of  a  mounted 
man.  .  .  .  "Who  comes  there?"  he  cried. 

"  Yassah,  hit's  me,  sah  ;  'tain't  nobody  but  me,  sah. 
Doezh  zhu  want  me  to  giddown  off  o'  dis  ole  mule, 
Mahsta  ?  " 

"  No  ;  stand  right  there  till  I  call  the  corporal,"  and 
then  he  opened  his  mouth  to  cry  louder  for  the  corporal 
of  the  guard.  But  he  did  not  cry. 

From  his  rear  a  low  voice  had  spoken.     "  Dismount, 


322  OLD  SQUIRE 

and  hand  over  your  arms  !  You  are  surrounded  !  Be 
quiet,  or  you  are  gone  !  " 

His  head  had  gone  round  at  the  instant  .  .  .  three 
men  were  between  him  and  his  camp  .  .  .  footmen,  with 
pieces  levelled.  He  hesitated  .  .  .  his  eyes  turned  to 
the  front  .  .  .  there  the  one  man  had  grown  into  the 
road-full. 

"  Dismount !  "  came  the  command  again,  nearer,  and 
he  saw  the  three  men  around  him. 

Then,  quickly,  Morgan  with  his  seven  uniforms  passed 
the  sentinel.  In  half  a  minute  Lieutenant  Turner's  sec- 
tion of  Mosby's  column  halted  at  the  sentinel's  post,  and 
remained  there  stiff  in  saddle. 

The  sergeant  led  his  men  afoot.  He  was  seeking  the 
headquarters'  group :  at  his  right  a  great  semicircle  of 
wagons  ;  at  his  left,  beyond  the  roadway,  the  long  rows 
of  picketed  cavalry  horses. 

Now  came  the  challenge  from  another  sentinel,  the 
picket  on  the  eastern  road.  Morgan  could  hear  it  but 
dimly ;  at  the  next  instant  a  shot,  and  then  the  mad  gal- 
loping of  Mosby's  men  from  east  and  from  west,  as  in  both 
directions  they  stormed  forward  to  meet  in  the  camp. 

At  once,  everywhere  within  the  bounds  of  that  bivouac, 
shouts  of  anger,  of  amazement,  of  entreaty,  of  terror,  of 
command ;  men  were  running  to  their  horses  ;  the  team- 
sters were  springing  from  their  wagons,  others  from 
their  places  on  the  ground ;  horses  were  stamping  and 
plunging,  breaking  their  picket  ropes  and  rushing  here 
and  there  in  wildest  fright ;  shots  were  firing  in  every 
quarter;  disorder  was  supreme  and  yet  increasing, 


THE  PARTISANS  323 

In  the  very  beginning  of  the  turmoil  the  captain  com- 
manding had  sprung  from  sound  sleep,  pistol  in  hand; 
he  saw  a  group  of  men  confronting  him,  weapons  ready. 
"  Who  are  you  ?  Surrender  !  "  he  cried. 

"  First  Virginia  cavalry  !  Lee's  brigade  !  Stuart's 
division  !  "  shouted  Morgan  in  reply.  "  Surrender  !  " 

The  captain  hesitated. 

"  Ready  !     Aim  !  " 

The  levelled  carbines  fixed  upon  their  targets ;  one  by 
one  all  of  the  sleeping  group  had  risen. 

The  captain  threw  down  his  arms,  and  the  others  fol- 
lowed his  example. 

Without  a  head,  the  sleeping  cavalrymen  had  become 
mixed  in  hopeless  tangle.  Suddenly  the  cry  rose  —  started 
by  one  stentorian  voice,  taken  up  by  others  whose  heads 
were  cool,  and  who  saw  the  meaning,  saw  that  it  was  the 
only  hope  for  saving  anything  from  the  disaster,  the  cry 
rose  and  spread :  "  Stampede !  stampede  !  The  woods ! 
the  woods !  " 

A  few  of  the  teamsters  had  begun  to  hitch ;  at  the  cry 
of  the  stampede  they  dropped  chain  and  bridle  and  rushed 
away  southward,  some  of  them  hiding  behind  the  bank 
of  the  creek  until  all  was  over.  The  cavalrymen  who 
lingered  in  an  attempt  to  mount  and  ride  were  taken; 
those  who  rushed  afoot  into  the  woods  were  safe  from 
pursuit. 

Mosby's  men  were  soon  busy  in  ransacking  the  wagons. 
The  spot  was  too  near  the  Federal  army  to  hope  that 
all  the  material  could  be  carried  away  into  safety.  Every- 
body began  to  collect  horses  and  mules,  to  be  started  on 


324  OLD   SQUIRE 

the  return  journey,  each  man  exchanging  his  own  beast  for 
any  he  liked  better.  The  prisoners,  numbering  more 
than  thirty,  were  held  together  under  guard;  they,  too, 
must  be  mounted.  Mosby  had  found  valuable  booty, 
mainly  medical  stores,  which  required  some  sixteen 
wagons  to  transport ;  to  these  wagons  double  teams  were 
hitched  ;  all  others  were  burnt. 

Wearied  by  a  night's  ride,  to  which  had  been  added 
three  hours  of  exhausting  labour,  the  band  started  to 
return.  The  men  knew  that  rest  could  not  be  hoped  for 
until  they  had  passed  the  Bull  Run  Mountains ;  even 
then  they  might  have  no  rest;  the  proper  care  of  the 
prisoners  and  of  the  horses  would  demand  extraordinary 
exertion  on  the  part  of  those  whom  Mosby  should  choose, 
and  who  must  attempt  their  delivery  to  Stuart,  far  away 
covering  Lee's  infantry ;  as  to  the  others,  a  long  rest  was 
looked  for,  with  no  duty  but  that  of  self-preservation 
until  Mosby  should  call  them  again  from  their  hiding- 
places. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   RETREAT 

"  Who  would  true  valour  see, 
Let  him  come  hither  1 " 

i.    BUNTAN. 

IT  was  long  after  sunrise  when  the  last  raider  left  the 
desolated  camp,  and  Mosby  could  not  doubt  that  tidings 
of  the  disaster  had  reached  the  ears  of  more  than  one 
Federal  commander;  for,  besides  the  pickets  who  had 
been  posted  at  a  distance  from  the  main  road,  and  who 
would  at  once  have  ridden  fast  with  the  alarm,  scores  of 
frightened  men  and  frantic  horses  had  rushed  into  the 
darkness  ;  some  of  these  men  would  have  been  able  to 
seize  loose  horses,  and  would  be  ready  upon  the  arrival  of 
fresh  help,  however  small  the  reinforcements  might  be,  to 
reorganize  and  join  with  any  pursuing  party.  Mosby's 
troubles  had  just  begun. 

Indeed,  it  is  an  easy  thing  to  effect  a  panic  of  sleeping 
men  ;  one  man  afoot  is  better  than  a  thousand  such ;  a 
frightened  cow  has  been  known  to  stampede  a  brigade  of 
infantry.  You  have  fought  well  in  open  battle  ;  you 
have  caught  the  flag  as  your  comrade  fell,  and  have 
carried  it  aloft  and  far  to  the  front  and  felt  no  dimming 
of  ardour ;  but  you  unbuckle  your  arms,  and  you  lie  down 

325 


326  OLD   SQUIRE 

to  sleep,  and  from  dreams  of  home  you  wake  in  blackness 
total  but  for  specks  of  light  at  the  mouths  of  the  enemy's 
guns  environing  ;  you  hear  their  war-cry  while  yours  is 
silent;  you  know  not  whether  half  your  comrades  are 
still  alive,  or  whether  your  commander  is  in  the  hands  of 
the  foe  whose  successful  advance  means  complete  suprem- 
acy ;  your  first  sane  thought  is  how  to  escape,  and  you 
are  a  cool-headed  and  brave-hearted  man  if  you  have  even 
that  thought. 

The  surprise  had  been  easy  ;  to  retire  with  safety  would 
be  difficult.  It  is  no  wonder  that  Major  Mosby's  exploits, 
for  a  great  part,  began  brilliantly  and  ended  in  sorrow  — 
always,  nevertheless,  with  the  effect  of  great  disturbance  to 
his  enemies.  His  profession  was  that  of  destruction  with  a 
greater  purpose  than  to  destroy  —  to  demoralize.  And, 
although  his  failures  to  save  what  he  captured  were 
many,  yet  it  must  be  confessed  that  more  than  one  such 
failure  was  to  his  credit  —  he  abandoned  his  booty  in 
order  to  save  his  men. 

And  on  this  morning  he  knew  that  his  own  place  was 
at  the  rear,  and  until  his  column  should  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  pursuit,  his  feeling  must  be  all  of  suspense  and 
none  of  gratulation.  For  the  moment  he  had  spread  a 
sense  of  insecurity  in  the  minds  of  his  enemies,  in  more  or 
less  degree  in  the  whole  of  Meade's  army;  but  unless  he 
should  succeed  in  bringing  off  his  band,  this  feeling  of  his 
enemies  would  be  changed  into  satisfaction  because  of  his 
future  inability  to  endanger  them.  Then,  too,  not  only 
his  men  must  surely  be  saved,  but  his  booty  also  must  be 
saved  if  possible  ;  though  by  its  early  sacrifice  he  should 


THE  RETREAT  327 

be  able  to  disband  his  men  and  thus  insure  their  individ- 
ual safety,  such  sacrifice  must  inevitably  tend  to  the 
abandonment  of  the  partisan  warfare  which  was  of  so 
great  value  ;  for  how  could  he  or  others  hope  to  sustain 
the  spirit  necessary  for  these  enterprises  if  they  were  not 
in  a  measure  successful  to  the  individuals  engaged  in 
them  ?  Doubtless  he  would  willingly  have  burnt  every 
dollar's  worth  of  his  booty  if  at  the  same  time  he  could 
have  known  that  his  men  would  follow  him  on  his  next 
raid  with  their  accustomed  zeal.  He  knew  that  it  could 
not  be  ;  he  must  endeavour  at  any  cost,  except  that  of  his 
organization,  to  carry  off  into  the  mountains  value  suffi- 
cient to  keep  the  spirit  at  a  high  level. 

The  wagons  retained  were  lightly  loaded  —  for  part 
with  medical  stores  which  Lee's  army  greatly  needed,  for 
other  parts  with  implements  and  clothing.  Progress  was 
rapid  ;  though  the  men  were  weary,  they  were  in  a  high 
state  of  elation.  The  prisoners  had  dwindled  to  less  than 
twenty  ;  in  the  confusion  incident  to  such  an  exploit 
escapes  are  easy  and  numerous.  Only  the  officers  were 
well  guarded,  the  teamsters  being  forced  to  handle  their 
teams  and  to  drive  them  in  the  service  of  their  cap- 
tors. 

Far  at  the  front  West  rode,  the  advance  following  ;  far 
at  the  rear  Morgan  and  Sency,  yet  with  old  Squire  be- 
hind them,  his  invaluable  services  having  been  proved  at 
the  pistol's  mouth.  Even  granted  that  Squire  be  taken, 
confidence  was  felt  that  he  could  make  his  way  with  his 
captors  ;  for  the  only  man,  the  sentinel,  who  could  have 
told  of  Squire's  part  in  the  surprise  was  a  prisoner.  On 


328  OLD  SQUIRE 

either   hand,   parallel   with   the    column,    moved    scouts 
familiar  with  the  country. 

Armstrong  had  shown  more  than  his  customary  reck- 
lessness ;  now  he  seemed  utterly  indifferent ;  while  other 
men's  faces  and  speech  gave  evidence  of  joy  over  success 
or  at  times  manifested  eagerness  in  respect  to  the  march 
into  safety,  he  rode  silent  and  expressionless. 

Mosby  pushed  the  retreat  with  all  his  vigour  ;  he  knew 
the  telegraph  would  carry  the  news  to  every  Federal  com- 
mander in  the  district,  —  Warrenton,  Fairfax,  perhaps 
even  Gainesville  ;  from  Gainesville  a  force  might  pursue  ; 
from  Fairfax  a  force  would  endeavour  to  intercept  him. 
He  must  strain  every  nerve  .  .  .  could  it  be  possible  for 
a  swift  rider  to  carry  the  news  to  Aldie  in  time  for  the 
Federal  cavalry  there  to  throw  themselves  across  his 
path?  He  must  strain  every  nerve. 

To  guard  his  prisoners  and  lead  the  captured  horses 
had  demanded  half  his  force.  Mosby  now  had  but  forty 
unencumbered  men  ;  yet  forty  were  sufficient  —  provided 
he  should  not  be  forced  to  fight.  Sometimes  the  teams 
went  downhill  at  a  gallop  ;  oh,  for  the  clear  passage  of 
the  Aldie  pike  ! 

Old  Squire  kept  Morgan  just  in  sight ;  the  negro  was 
mounted  on  a  stout  and  swift  horse  —  many  were  the  stout 
and  swift  horses  that  were  yet  loose  in  the  woods,  to  be 
ridden  by  any  man  who  might  secure  them. 

Usher  West,  also,  was  well  mounted  :  all  unserviceable 
or  weak  animals  had  been  abandoned.  West  rode  far  at 
the  front,  and  at  every  new  stretch  of  the  way  he  rode 
fast ;  four  holsters  hung  at  his  saddle.  Usher  West,  the 


THE   RETREAT  329 

extreme  front,  was  more  than  a  mile  in  advance  of 
Squire. 

Mosby  rode  in  no  one  place  ;  his  great  horse  carried 
him  toward  the  front,  where  he  would  urge  the  men  to 
steady  work  ;  then  he  would  halt,  and,  as  the  wagons 
passed,  command  the  teamsters  to  drive  till  their  teams 
dropped  dead  ;  when  the  teams  had  passed,  again  he  gal- 
loped to  the  front,  ever  pressing  the  flight,  making  for  the 
gap  in  the  mountains,  which  he  knew  he  could  defend  at 
least  until  darkness  should  enable  him  to  reward  his  men ; 
after,  dispersion  could  not  be  commanded  too  soon. 

West  avoided  Haymarket.  Oh,  that  he  had  known  ! 
the  Federal  cavalry  force  that  for  two  days  had  been 
there  in  bivouac  had  been  withdrawn  ;  he  lost  a  mile. 
He  went  on  by-roads  in  a  detour  and  came  again  into  the 
road  for  the  gap  ;  then,  looking  back,  he  halted,  for  he 
saw  no  follower.  It  was  ten  o'clock  —  after.  West  heard 
shots  far  to  the  rear.  The  pursuit  had  not  only  begun  —  it 
had  struck  the  column. 

Yet  West  remained  stationary. 

In  the  rear  old  Squire  had  seen  mounted  men  cut  in 
between  him  and  Morgan  —  a  squad  of  but  half  a  dozen  ; 
had  seen  Morgan's  men  turn  in  their  saddles  ;  had  seen  and 
heard  the  fire  of  both  parties  ;  had  seen  Morgan's  men  yet 
stand  as  though  to  invite  closer  contest ;  then  he  had  taken 
to  the  woods  at  his  right. 

The  advance  guard  under  Lieutenant  Turner,  at  a  dis- 
tance following  West,  had  been  commanded  to  reenforce 
the  main  body.  With  show  of  strength  Mosby  must  give 
his  pursuers  pause.  The  train  and  the  led  horses  went 


330  OLD   SQUIRE 

on,  but  under  feeble  guard.  A  front  attack  would  prove 
ruin. 

Mosby  was  now  at  the  rear  —  farther  to  the  rear  than 
Turner's  men  —  back  with  Morgan. 

"  How  many  were  there,  Sergeant  ?  " 

"Very  few,  sir  ;  I  counted  only  six,"  was  the  reply. 

"  If  the  same  crowd  shows  up  again,  you  must  charge 
them,"  cried  Mosby,  and  rode  again  to  the  front,  urging  as 
he  rode.  West  had  started  —  had  seen  the  wagons  coming. 

"  West,"  says  Mosby,  anxiously,  "  all  I  fear  now  is  that 
man  Freeman  off  there  by  Aldie." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  it  would  be  a  pure  accident  that  threw 
him  across  our  road." 

"  I  don't  know  so  well  about  that  —  and  accidents  will 
happen." 

"Two  hours  more,  Major,  and  we'll  be  all  right." 

"  Yes  —  but  the  two  hours.  Well,  we  don't  howl  yet ! 
And  if  Freeman  hasn't  come  down  this  way  I  don't 
know  the  man  that  can  stop  us.  Morgan  drove  back 
their  advance  —  and  they  will  be  very  cautious." 

"  How  many  were  there,  Major  ?  " 

"  Only  a  small  squad." 

"  Plenty  more  behind,"  West  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  but  they'll  be  slow.  They  think  we're  the  First 
Virginia,"  said  Mosby. 

The  column  had  become  more  compact ;  the  speed  was  a 
little  slower,  and  soon  must  become  quite  slow,  for  the 
road  would  ascend  the  hills. 

"  If  Freeman  should  try  to  stop  us,  Major  ?  " 

"Then  we  must  throw  everything  we've  got  right  on  him 


THE   RETREAT  331 

without  giving  him  time  to  get  help,"  said  the  commander, 
sternly. 

Again  there  were  shots  at  the  rear,  and  again  Mosby  had 
gone. 

The  Federals  showed  stronger,  a  full  platoon,  more  than 
equalling  the  raider's  rear-guard.  They  were  advancing 
rapidly,  and  to  Morgan  it  was  evident  that  their  confidence 
came  from  the  knowledge  of  near  support. 

Armstrong  was  no  longer  indifferent ;  he  was  raging. 

"  Dan,  let's  have  it  out  with  'em  !  " 

"  No,  Charley  ;  not  unless  they  force  us." 

The  retreat  of  the  rear-guard  had  become  a  walk  ;  be- 
hind them  the  Federals  were  advancing  at  a  trot  —  some 
four  hundred  yards  between. 

"  Dan,  you  see  that  bend  yonder  ?  "  cried  Armstrong. 

"  Yes  ;  when  we  get  there,  we'll  run  for  it  and  gain 
ground." 

"  No,  by  God  !  If  I  had  ten  men  behind  me  like  you've 
got,  I'd  try  'em  right  there  !  " 

Three  hundred  yards  separated  the  parties.  The  bend 
was  fifty  yards  away  .  .  .  forty  yards  .  .  .  thirty  yards. 

The  pursuers  commenced  firing  ;  Armstrong  halted,  and 
faced  them.  Morgan,  failing  to  see  Armstrong's  act,  passed 
on  with  the  force,  but  in  ten  yards  he  became  aware  that 
his  friend  was  not  at  his  side  ;  he  looked  around,  and 
saw  Armstrong  stiff  in  his  saddle. 

"  Dan,  I'm  a-thinkin'  he's  a-goin'  to  make  us  stop  here," 
cried  Lewis. 

"  Charley !  "  shouted  the  sergeant,  "  come  back  here,  I 
command  you !  " 


332  OLD  SQUIRE 

Armstrong  seemed  not  to  hear  ;  Morgan,  seeing  him 
draw  sabre,  spurred  his  horse,  caught  his  friend's  bridle, 
and  drew  him  away.  The  pursuers  fired  ;  their  shouts 
were  heard. 

"Dan !  "  yelled  Armstrong,  seemingly  wild,  "  for  God's 
sake,  let's  stop  here  and  charge  'em  !  " 

Morgan  said  nothing.  The  men  had  seen,  and  were 
wondering  what  Armstrong  would  do  next.  Sency  and 
Joe  Lewis  rode  in  Charley's  rear. 

But  behind  the  bend  Armstrong  again  halted.  Sency 
cried  to  Morgan  :  "  Better  have  it  out  here,  Dan !  It's 
got  to  come  soon,  anyhow;  and  Charley's  giving  us 
trouble  !  " 

Morgan  ordered  his  men  to  scatter  in  the  bushes,  and 
to  charge  pistol  in  hand  when  he  should  give  the  word. 

And  now  the  Federals,  believing  that  beyond  the  bend 
the  slow  retreat  would  suddenly  become  swift,  came  on  in 
disorderly  haste. 

As  the  first  blue  horseman  rode  into  view,  Morgan 
signalled  by  pulling  trigger ;  but  even  before  the  shot 
startled  his  men  into  activity,  Armstrong  urged  on  with 
a  shout,  his  sabre  pointing,  leaning  forward  for  action, 
neither  stiffly  erect  nor  bending  aside,  eager  to  strike, 
careless  to  avoid. 

At  the  signal  a  dozen  pistol  shots  had  bewildered  the 
Federals  ;  then,  unready,  they  were  instantly  charged  and 
thrown  into  confusion,  suffering  the  loss  of  a  third  of  their 
numbers ;  and  as  the  remnant  fled,  the  Confederates  pur- 
sued, Armstrong  ever  in  the  lead,  Morgan  long  vainly 
striving  to  recall  him  when  the  pursuit  had  become 
unwise. 


THE  RETREAT  333 

The  rear-guard  slowly  withdrew,  passing  without  con- 
cern the  dead  and  wounded  of  the  Federals. 

But  the  check  had  not  accomplished  safety.  From  far 
away,  where  a  flying  battery  had  been  planted,  shells  be- 
gan to  scream  over  the  wagons.  The  road  curved  right 
and  left  in  its  ascent,  making  plain  targets  for  the  rifled 
cannon  on  somewhat  lower  ground.  The  third  wagon 
from  the  rear  was  struck ;  at  once  the  teamsters  cut  loose 
the  mules  and  kept  on ;  three  wagons  had  been  abandoned. 
Then  Mosby  attempted  ruse.  He  commanded  the  team- 
sters to  drive  on ;  in  rear  of  the  wagons  he  formed  all  his 
men  in  double  file,  and  at  their  head  rode  six  times  in  a 
slow  walk  around  an  open  bend,  making  six  circles,  half 
of  each  circle  hidden  in  the  woods  where  he  galloped  in 
order  to  overtake  the  slow-moving  few  who  were  visible 
to  his  enemies.  Meantime  the  cannon  continued  to  pound, 
but  the  distance  was  great,  and  the  elevation  was  at  each 
instant  more  impracticable. 

Unless  the  partisan  should  find  a  force  in  front  blocking 
his  way,  there  was  now  no  cause  to  fear  the  pursuit;  he 
drew  Morgan  and  more  than  half  his  men  forward,  follow- 
ing West  closely.  Half  a  mile  more  and  he  must  cross 
the  junction  of  the  roads,  and  once  past  that  cross-road  he 
might  snap  his  fingers  at  his  enemies.  From  his  elevated 
position  he  could  see  with  his  glass  a  troop  of  horse  halted 
two  miles  at  the  south ;  they  had  given  up  the  chase,  or 
they  were  delaying  for  a  purpose  —  for  what  purpose? 
To  deceive  the  Confederates,  who  thus  would  be  tempted 
to  slower  march  and  so  give  time  for  other  Federals  to 
intercept?  He  decided  to  urge  forward  more  rapidly. 


334  OLD  SQUIRE 

The  loss  of  a  minute  at  the  junction  might  prove  ruin. 
He  turned  and  again  sought  the  front;  but  before  his 
gaze  quit  the  south  he  saw  the  Federal  horsemen  begin 
to  move  on. 

Mosby  rode  past  Lieutenant  Turner's  men  —  and  then 
past  Morgan's  men;  and  as  he  rode  he  cried  to  both  to 
keep  all  well  in  hand,  and  to  seize  upon  the  junction  and 
hold  it  till  the  last  man  had  gone  by.  He  kept  on,  and 
now  saw  West  ahead  steadily  moving  ;  he  would  ride 
with  West,  anxiety  so  pressing  him  that  every  moment's 
doubt  was  cumulative  torture.  It  was  not  more  than 
three  hundred  yards  to  the  junction  —  was  the  crossing 
clear? 

West  was  yet  two  hundred  yards  in  Mosby's  front,  and 
going  steadily. 

Mosby  turned  in  his  saddle ;  he  saw  Morgan  leading 
on,  not  twenty  rods  away,  Armstrong  by  his  side  ;  and 
at  the  instant  saw  Armstrong  raise  his  hand  in  the  air, 
and  also  saw  Morgan's  hand  go  up.  He  turned  again, 
and  as  he  turned  he  saw  the  smoke  from  West's  pistol ; 
saw  West's  horse  reined  back  on  his  haunches ;  saw  the 
road  full  of  blue  troopers  in  striking  distance  of  his  guide ; 
saw  West's  horse  fall ;  and,  all  at  the  same  moment,  saw 
also  the  fall  of  the  foremost  Federal. 

A  great  shout  came  from  Mosby's  rear  —  Morgan  was 
charging. 

Mosby  knew  that  West  was  down,  and  was  a  prisoner 
or  dead.  He  waited  but  a  moment.  Morgan's  men  were 
coming  at  the  variable  speed  of  thirty  horses  —  better  let 
them  close  —  "  Steady,  men  !  "  —  then,  "  All  together  !  " 


THE   RETREAT  335 

Morgan  had  not  stopped,  but  his  speed  had  lessened. 
Armstrong  with  drawn  sabre  had  swept  on. 

Twenty  paces  in  Armstrong's  rear  Mosby  was  now  lead- 
ing two-thirds  of  his  band  against  Freeman's  company 
ready  in  the  junction  —  no,  not  ready. 

The  numbers  were  nearly  equal.  Mosby  had  the  great 
advantage  of  present  momentum  —  the  other,  that  of 
physical  strength  unabated. 

But  Freeman's  position  was  the  worst  he  could  have 
chosen  ;  indeed,  he  had  not  chosen  —  he  had  but  reached 
the  spot.  There  was  no  time  to  take  position,  or  time  to 
meet  charge  in  column  with  charge  in  column.  His  men 
had  but  fronted  in  line  —  the  centre  on  the  road  up  which 
Mosby  was  charging  eight  deep,  woods  and  steep  hillside 
on  either  hand. 

Armstrong  was  in  the  thick  of  careering  horsemen  ; 
his  second  blow  had  not  been  struck  when  Mosby,  Morgan, 
Sency,  Lewis,  were  all  at  his  back.  The  Federals  in  the 
open  road  —  room  there  for  but  few  —  had  fired  their 
pistols  without  lessening  the  impact  of  the  charge.  No 
doubt  as  to  the  momentary  result  —  the  column  pierced  the 
line,  cutting  Freeman's  company  in  two,  part  fleeing  down 
the  mountain,  other  part  to  the  west.  The  crossing  was 
encumbered  with  fallen  men  and  horses. 

But  Mosby  must  turn  —  the  Federals  on  both  wings 
were  seeking  to  rally  and  reunite  —  and  as  he  came  back 
he  found  the  enemy  again  in  his  road,  and  growing  stronger 
at  each  moment. 

Yet  the  struggle  was  short.  Freeman's  men,  one-half 
without  leadership,  for  Brock  had  fallen  by  West's  first 


336  OLD  SQUIRE 

fire,  were  unable  to  hold  together.  Freeman  himself  had 
been  unhorsed,  and  though  his  men  had  remounted  him,  he 
was  hardly  able  now  to  sit  his  saddle.  The  return  charge 
of  the  raiders  easily  scattered  their  enemies,  who  fled  down 
the  mountain  road  to  the  east  just  as  Mosby's  reserve 
reached  the  scene  of  conflict. 

Three  Confederates  had  fallen  ;  more  than  twice  as 
many  were  suffering  from  wounds.  A  Federal  lieutenant 
was  among  the  dead.  The  wounded  on  both  sides,  as  well 
as  Mosby's  dead,  were  placed  in  the  wagons.  Six  prisoners 
had  been  added  to  those  already  captured.  The  retreat 
continued,  but  it  was  no  longer  a  flight. 

Before  sunset  Mosby  reached  safety.  And  the  night 
grew,  and  waned,  and  the  sun  again  shone  ;  but  from 
Morgan's  squad,  Usher  and  old  Squire  were  still  missing. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

A  FLASK   FOE   TWO 

"  Ber.     Who's  there  ? 
Fran.     Nay,  answer  me  !    Stand  and  unfold  yourself ! " 

SH  A  KESPE  ARE. 

SAFE,  at  least  for  the  time,  old  Squire  heard  the  Fed- 
eral cavalry  march  by  on  the  road.  It  was  clear  as  the 
sun  that  he  could  not  overtake  Mosby  until  that  leader 
should  halt,  and  he  saw  no  indications  but  those  of  con- 
tinued flight  and  pursuit ;  so  he  determined  quickly  that 
the  best  thing  for  him  to  do  was  to  return  to  Mr.  West's, 
whither  his  master,  or  at  least  Usher,  would  not  long 
delay  his  coming. 

He  was  in  the  woods.  Just  how  far  he  must  go  he 
knew  not,  or  the  precise  direction,  but  Bull  Run  Moun- 
tain was  before  him  ;  once  on  its  high  western  slope  he 
would  be  able  to  see  villages  and  roads,  and  make  his 
way ;  the  mountains,  in  many  places,  he  already  knew. 
He  went  northwest,  keeping  prudently  in  the  woods. 
His  horse  was  a  good  one,  but  would  need  feeding.  As 
for  his  own  needs  he  was  armed  with  a  Federal  haversack 
which  he  had  not  yet  explored. 

After  a  time  he  heard  cannon,  not  near  enough  to 
perturb  him  on  his  own  account,  but  it  gave  him  fear  for 
z  337 


338  OLD  SQUIRE 

Mahs  Chahley ;  his  course  had  led  him  too  far  from  the 
pursuit  to  enable  him  to  hear  the  sound  of  small  arms. 
He  became  extremely  cautious ;  in  his  uncertainty  of  the 
whereabouts  of  all  Federals,  he  advanced  only  after  look- 
ing in  every  direction  ;  he  must  cross  the  road  on  which 
the  Federals  were  moving,  but  not  yet ;  he  would  go  slow 
until  safe  in  the  mountain. 

Toward  noon  he  found  a  small  grassy  glade  in  the 
midst  of  the  low  woods.  The  spot  was  very  inviting. 
He  was  hungry,  and  his  horse  strained  at  the  bridle  to 
crop  the  good  grass  ;  a  small  brook  ran  near  by. 

He  dismounted  and  picketed  his  horse  to  graze ;  then 
he  sat  down  and  rummaged  his  haversack. 

"  Oohm,  hahdtack,  —  man  w'at  fixed  up  dis  dam  stuff 
didn't  had  no  likin'  f eh  ole  Squiah,  —  oohm,  salt  pohk,  — 
I  not  a-gwine  to  run  f 'om  dat,  —  oohm,  cawfy  an'  sugah 
all  mixed  up  —  an'  w'at  dis  in  de  big  bottle  ?  Hit  shake 
lak  some'h'm  good  feh  true." 

He  unscrewed  the  cover  of  the  metal  flask  and  smelt. 

"  Oohmoo  !  dat  dess  lak  dat  med'cin'  Doctoh  guv  me. 
Hit  mek  me  fohgit  all  my  troubles." 

Squire  did  not  make  himself  entirely  drunk,  neither 
was  he  able  to  preserve  complete  sobriety.  When  he  got 
his  consent  to  leave  the  spot,  the  sun  was  descending 
toward  the  mountain  tops ;  he  had  slept ;  his  horse  had 
ceased  to  eat  the  tall  grass. 

He  replaced  in  his  haversack  the  remains  of  his  food, 
and  the  big  flask  atop. 

An  hour  more  and  he  had  begun  to  go  up  the  mountain 
side ;  and  now  he  concluded,  after  renewing  his  courage, 


A  FLASK  FOR  TWO  339 

that  it  was  no  longer  needful  to  keep  the  thick  woods,  for 
here  before  him  was  a  good  open  way  seemingly  untravelled 
for  long,  leading  in  the  right  direction ;  he  took  it  and 
went  on  more  rapidly,  for  he  wanted  to  attain  the  western 
side  of  the  range  while  yet  there  should  be  good  light. 

Around  him,  seemingly  unconcerned  at  the  nearness  or 
at  the  noise  of  the  great  four-footer  that  could  not  climb, 
squirrels  were  chattering  ;  one  of  them  scampered  across 
the  way,  his  tail  bent  in  the  most  ultra  fashionable  of  con- 
volutions, and  hung  motionless  three  feet  from  earth  on 
the  bole  of  a  great  oak  ;  Squire  watched  him. 

When  the  negro's  eyes  next  rested  on  the  path  before 
him,  he  halted  —  a  man  was  in  the  way. 

Sunlight  had  not  yet  gone  in  the  valley,  but  here  in 
the  woods  the  mountain  shadow  was  gloomy,  and  Squire 
at  first  glance  was  unable  to  know  more  than  that  the 
man  was  afoot  and  in  blue,  and  seemed  unarmed.  The 
face  was  hidden  by  a  drooping  bough  very  near  it ;  yet 
Squire  could  see  that  the  stranger's  front  was  presented, 
and  it  required  no  great  reasoning  to  determine  that  the 
blue  man  had  a  mighty  coign  of  vantage  in  relation  to 
that  leafy  branch  through  which  undoubtedly  he  was 
peering  at  the  more  distant  horseman. 

There  was,  however,  in  the  stranger's  attitude  an  in- 
describable something  —  an  indeterminate  quality  akin  to 
hesitation,  yet  greater.  Yes,  Squire  had  no  sooner  seen 
the  man  than  he  resolved  not  to  flee ;  for  the  man  surely, 
though  motionless,  radiated,  as  it  were,  a  subtile  evince- 
ment  of  tremulous  alarm. 

Squire  himself  was  first  to  speak  :  — 


MO  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Mahsta,  kin  you  tell  me  ef  you  is  seed  any  stray 
bosses  ?  " 

The  man  came  forward  ;  his  right  hand  was  performing 
violent  and  mysterious  action  in  the  air ;  in  his  left  was  a 
bunch  of  live  chickens. 

"  Well,  I  swaih  to  God  if  it  ain't  shu,  Unc  Squiah  !  " 

"  De  Je-e-e-susgawd  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  man,  holding 
out  his  hand.  "  Bahney,  you  fool  niggeh,  I  sho'  is  proud 
to  see  you  a-lookin'  so  hahty  !  I  sot  on  my  boss  right 
sheah,  an'  I  says,  says  I,  '  Dat  man  yandeh  he  done  plum 
got  los'  an'  he  dunuo  whah  to  go,  an'  so  I  nee'n'  to  be 
skeehed  o'  him,  an'  bless  Gawd,  Bahney,  I  tuck  you  feh 
a  w'ite  man,  dess  'cazhe  yo'  black  skin  hit  done  hide 
behime  de  bush.  But,  bless  Gawd,  I  is  glad  to  see  you, 
an'  to  see  you  a-lookin'  so  peaht !  Whah  you  gwine, 
Bahney  ?  "  and  Squire's  voice  was  not  devoid  of  suspicion. 

"  I  ain't  a-gwine  nowhah  now,  Unc  Squiah  ;  I  done 
be'n.  An'  all  I  got  to  do  is  to  git  back.  But  I  swaih 
to  God,  heah  you  is  oncet  mo'e,  when  I  ain't  neveh  been 
expectin'  to  see  you  no  mo'e." 

Squire  gave  an  indescribable  motion  of  the  head,  indi- 
cating a  complexity  of  ideas. 

"  Whaffuh  you  say  dat,  niggeh  ?  You  be'n  a-lookin'  to 
heah  dat  I  done  daid  ?  You  be'n  a-cockin'  up  yo'  yeahs 
to  heah  dat  ?  You  betteh  be  a-tekkin'  keeh  o'  yo'  own 
skin.  Now,  I  let  shu  know  dat." 

"  Now,  Unc  Squiah,  don't  shu  go  to  gittin'  riled  about 
nothin',"  says  Barney,  evidently  desiring  to  conciliate  ; 
"  you  jest  git  down  an'  step  out  here  in  de  bresh  an'  I'll 
tell  you  some'h'm." 


A  FLASK  FOR  TWO  341 

"  An'  whah  izh  yo'  camp  at,  Bahney  ?  I  be'n  a-heahin' 
dat  shu  hole  on  to  dat  Cap'm  Freeman  oncet  mo'e." 
Squire's  gaze  was  still  full  upon  Barney's  face. 

"  Yes,  Unc  Squiah  ;  I  had  to  hole  on  to  him  yit,  'caze 
it  so  fuh  back  down  whah  I  got  to  go  to.  Git  right 
down  an'  come  along  out  in  de  bresh.  De's  be'n  some 
tumble  gwines-on  dis  day,  an'  I  sho'  is  mighty  glad  to 
fall  in  with  you  oncet  mo'e." 

Although  Squire  was  suspicious,  yet  not  a  trace  of 
reluctance  was  in  his  mind  concerning  possible  danger 
of  betrayal  by  this  brother  in  a  freemasonry  old  as  the 
race  ;  he  dismounted  and  followed  Barney. 

"  I  sho'  is  glad  to  fall  in  with  you  ag'in,  Unc  Squiah, 
I  sho'  is,"  Barney  repeated,  looking,  too,  as  though  he 
meant  what  he  said  ;  "  I  be'n  a-heahin'  about  shu,  an'  I 
be'n  skeehed  dat  some  wrongdom  was  a-hatchin',  'caze  I 
knowed  dat  my  name  done  git  to  yo'  folks,  'caze  I  helped 
one  of  'em  out  oveh  yondeh,  an'  I  be'n  a-wantin'  to  see  you." 

"  Whaffuh  you  want  to  see  me,  chile  ?  "  asked  the  old 
man,  kindly. 

"  'Caze  I  knowed  my  name  done  got  to  yo'  folks,  Unc 
Squiah.  Ain't  shu  done  heahed  about  me  f'om  yo'  folks  ?  " 
asked  Barney,  anxiously. 

"  Cou'se  I  is,  chile  ;  Mahs  Dan  he  done  tell  me  all  'bout 
seein'  you  oveh  yandeh  in  Mellan'  an'  Penns'vania,  an'  he 
say  he  gwine  to  look  out  an'  pay  you  back  ;  dat  w'at  Mahs 
Dan  say." 

"  He  tell  you  'bout  how  I  helped  him  out,  Unc  Squiah  ?  " 

"  Yas,  chile,  cou'se  he  do.  Mahs  Dan  he  don't  hide 
nothin'  f'om  me  !  "  the  old  man  exclaimed  proudly. 


342  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  But,  Unc  Squiah,  I's  jest  been  afeahed  dat  de  cap'm'd 
heah  about  dat,"  and  Barney  shook  his  head  and  seemed 
restless  with  his  thought. 

"  How  he  gwine  to  heah  ?  "  asked  Squire,  assurance  in 
his  tone.  "  Kin  he  heah  Mahs  Dan  talk  six  mile  ?  " 

"  But  den  he  mought  tell  somebody  what'd  tell  de 
cap'm,"  returned  the  younger  negro,  uneasily. 

"  You  feahed  o'  me,  Bahney  ?  You  feahed  o'  me  ?  You 
nee'n'  to  be  feahed  o'  me,  chile  ;  I  de  bes'  frien'  you  got 
anywhah,  Bahney,"  and  old  Squire  had  spoken  as  though 
he  was  laying  down  a  proposition  incapable  of  denial. 

"  Cou'se  I  ain't  afeahed  o'  you,  Unc  Squiah,  and  all  I 
axes  you  to  do  is  to  ax  Mm  not  to  talk." 

"  Mahs  Dan  ain't  no  talkin'  man,  chile  ;  but  I  gwine 
to  ax  him  fuh  you,  Bahney.  Ain't  we  got  fuh  'nough, 
Bahney  ? " 

"  Yes,  Unc  Squiah,  you  jest  tie  yo'  hoss,  an'  I  gwine 
to  tell  you  some'h'm.  Now  le's  set  down  right  sheah  ;  an' 
you  needn't  be  afeahed,  feh  dey  ain't  no  man  in  three  mile 
dat  shu  got  any  call  to  be  afeahed  of.  You  jest  set  down. 
Whose  hoss  is  dat  shu  got  ?  " 

"  Mine  ;  de  cap'm  done  say  he  mine  feh  good.  You 
heah  de  cannon  to-day,  chile  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Unc  Squiah,  an'  I  done  seed  wuss'n  dat  ! 
An'  dat's  jest  what  I  gwine  to  tell  you  'bout.  You  know 
Lieutenant  Brock  ?  He  dead.  You  know  Laffney  ?  He 
dead.  You  know  Jinkins  ?  He  done  dead.  You  know 
O'Donnell  ?  He  dead.  You  know  Hawley  ?  Yo'  folks 
is  got  him,  an'  Freeman  he  got  Usheh  West."  The 
deliverance  of  this  speech  was  oratorical  and  effective  ; 


A  FLASK  FOR  TWO  343 

at  each  successive  gesture  Squire  had  swayed  his  body 
forth  or  back. 

"  Gawdamighty,  how  you  does  go  awn  ! "  exclaimed  the 
old  man. 

"  Hit's  de  troof  ;  an'  if  it  ain't  I  hope  I  may  die." 

"  Dat  Hirish  is  daid  ?  " 

"  Dead  as  Adam's  gran'daddy.  An'  I  ain't  de  leas'  bit 
sorry  —  not  feh  Aim,  noh  feh  Jinkins,  but,  Unc  Squiah, 
Misteh  Brock  he  a  good  man  to  me,  an'  my  bes'  frien'  in 
de  comp'ny  is  done  gawn." 

"  But  whah  izh  yo'  comp'ny  at  now,  Bahney  ?  "  asked 
Squire,  a  possible  danger  recurring  to  his  mind. 

"  What  dat  smell  so  good,  Unc  Squiah  ?  You  be'n 
eat'n  sugah  ?  " 

The  old  man  slowly  brought  out  his  flask. 

"  Tetch  it  light,  boy  ;  hit's  mighty  pow'ful,  an'  I  don't 
want  to  see  you  mek  a  fool  o'  yo'se'f." 

..."  Sho'  dat  is  good !  Uhmoo  !  Unc  Squiah,  I  be'n 
heahin'  about  shu.  Dat  man  Hawley  done  tole  de  cap'm 
dat  he  see  you  up  dah  on  de  Ridge,  an'  I  be'n  sawteh  ex- 
pectin'  an'  a-hopin'  to  meet  up  with  you  ag'in.  Now,  you 
done  ax  me  whah  is  de  comp'ny,  an'  I  gwine  to  tell  you  ; 
hit's  right  oveh  yondeh,  jest  about  three  mile  —  but  hit 
ain't  in  no  fix  to  git  skeehed  at,  feh  if  eveh  you  seed  a 
comp'ny  dat's  done  got  a  belly-full  o'  fightin'  hit's  dat 
same  comp'ny.  An'  I  gwine  to  tell  you  right  now,  Unc 
Squiah,  dat  if  ev'ything  goes  on  lak  it  do  to-day,  den 
Ginnle  Lee's  a-gwine  to  come  back  dis  a-way  befo'e  cawn 
pullin'  time.  Whah  wuzh  you  at  w'en  dey  wus  a-fight- 
in'  ?  " 


344  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Lawd,  chile,  I's  a-way  back  yandeh  ;  so  fuh  dat  I 
couldn't  heah  noth'n'  but  de  big  gun.  You  know  ef 
Mahs  Chahley  git  huht  ?  "  The  question  had  been  asked 
indifferently  as  to  manner,  yet  Squire  now  held  his  breath. 

"  Dat  I  don't  know  ;  but  yo'  folks  jest  up  an'  went 
th'ough  ouan  jest  lak  a  doset  o'  salts.  Twicet.  An'  dey 
didn't  lef  a  man  behind  'em  excusin'  of  Usheh  West." 

"  An'  dey  got  Mahs  Usheh  ?  How  come  you  know 
fo'w,  Bahney?" 

"  'Gaze  I  be'n  to  de  house  with  Cap'm  Freeman,  an'  I 
heah  Doctoh  Lacy  talk ;  de  doctoh  knowed  'im  jest  as 
soon  as  he  laid  eyes  on  'im." 

"  You  know  dat  doctoh,  too  ?  "  Again  Squire's  tone 
indicated  a  lack  of  interest. 

"Yes,  I  be'n  a-knowin'  him  mighty  nigh  on  to  two 
yeah." 

"  You  heah  him  say  ef  he  know  me  ?  " 

"  No,  Unc  Squiah  ;  I  ain't  neveh  heahed  him  call  yo' 
name." 

"  'Gaze  I  tell  you  why,  Bahney.  You  know  dat  time  I 
put  my  han'  on  somebody  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  neveh  gwine  to  fohgit  it,  Unc  Squiah,  an'  dat's 
jest  what  make  me  say  I  so  mighty  glad  to  see  yo'  face 
oncet  mo'e." 

"  Yas,  chile  ;  cou'she  you  is,"  said  the  old  man,  slowly, 
not  greatly  delighted  at  the  implication,  yet  feeling  no 
revengeful  desire  to  turn  the  tables  on  Barney.  "  Cou'she 
you  is  ;  ain't  dat  doctoh  a  mighty  smaht  man,  Bahney  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  mighty  smaht  in  some  places,  dat  he  is  ;  but 
den  ag'in  he  ain't  got  de  sense  of  a  louse." 


A   FLASK  FOR   TWO  345 

"  He  de  smahtes'  man  right  now  in  ole  Fihginny,"  ex- 
claimed Squire,  almost  angrily. 

"  Yes,  sah  ;  he  smaht  a  plenty  in  what  he  b'longs  to  ; 
but  den  ag'in  he  don't  know  de  fust  toot  on  de  big  brass 
hawn." 

"  He  de  smahtes'  man  in  dis  whole  wohl',''  insisted  the 
old  man,  hotly. 

"  How  come  you  know  ?  "  asked  Barney. 

"  Wy,  ain't  I  be'n  seed  him  ?  Ain't  I  be'n  a-wohkin' 
up  dah  at  Mahs  Tom's  fo'  mo'e'n  three  weeks  awff  an' 
awn  ?  An'  ain't  I  heahed  him  talk  ?  You  see  me  heah  ? 
You  see  me  heah  now,  Bahney  ?  You  see  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Unc  Squiah  ;  cou'se  I  see  you." 

"An'  ain't  shu  s'prise  to  see  me  ?  Now,  come,  ain't  shu 
mighty  s'prise  to  see  me  ?  " 

"  Dat  I  is /"  cried  Barney,  emphatically.  "I  jest  as 
soon  expec'  to  meet  my  daddy  what  be'n  dead  even  sence 
I  was  knee  high." 

"An'  you  know  de  reason?  You  know  de  reason  I 
heah  yit  ?  You  don't  ?  Den  I  gwine  to  tell  you.  Hit's 
dess  'caze  I  mek  a  mistake  in  countin',"  Squire  exclaimed 
with  all  confidence. 

"  What  de  doctoh  got  to  do  with  all  dat  ?  " 

"  'Caze  he  up  an'  he  showed  me  how  come  dat  I  mek 
dat  mistake.  He  de  smahtes'  man,  —  mine  w'at  I  tell  you, 
Bahney,  —  dat  man  he  de  smahtes'  man  dis  side  o'  up 
Yandeh  !  You  don't  b'lieve  it  ?  " 

Barney  slowly  shook  his  head.  "I  ain't  a-gwine  to 
'spute  dat  he  ain't  smaht,  Unc  Squiah  ;  but  den,  signs  is 
signs." 


346  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Yas,  an'  dat  dess  w'at  he  say,  too  ;  an'  he  ain't  a-sayin' 
nothin'  ag'in  de  signs.  But  shu  see  me  heah  now,  don't 
shu,  Bahney  ?  " 

Barney's  assent  seemed  rather  a  protest  against  existing 
conditions.  "  Hit  mought  be  so,"  he  said ;  "cou'se  I  knows 
dat  as  well  as  he  does,  dat  ev'ybody  can't  alluz  count 
right ;  but  den  ag'in  dey  ain't  no  use  in  fight'n'  ag'in  —  " 

"  Ag'in  w'at,  Bahney  ?     Don't  shu  see  me  heah  ?  " 

"  I  got  to  go,  Unc  Squiah  ;  I  got  to  git  back.  I's 
mighty  glad  I  see  you  oncet  mo'e." 

"But  shu  dess  hole  on,  Bahney.  I  ain't  quite  done 
wid  ju  yit.  Tek  anotheh  mou'f'l  o'  dis,  chile." 

"Jest  to  please  you,  Unc  Squiah,  an'  bein'  as  you  got 
so  much." 

"Now,  Bahney,  you  done  say  one  wohd  dat  I  lak  to 
heah  som'h'm  mo'e  about.  You  got  Mahs  Usheh  ?  " 

"Yes,  de  cap'm  done  tuck  him  back  to  camp." 

"  An'  did  he  git  huht  ?  " 

"  He  jest  git  stunted,  dat's  all ;  an'  dey  done  fotch  him 
to.  But  I  tell  you  what,  Unc  Squiah,  de  cap'm  he  mighty 
hot ;  he  say  he  gwine  to  make  a  sample." 

"  An'  w'at  he  mean  by  dat  ?  " 

"  He  say  dezhe  heah  Mosby  men  dat  ride  about  in 
home-made  clothes  an'  kill  de  Union  men,  he  say  dey 
ain't  fitten  to  live,  an'  he  say  dat  he  gwine  to  see  dat 
Misteh  West  don't  kill  no  mo'e.  Dat's  what  he  mean. 
He  done  kill  de  lieutenant,  an'  de  cap'm  say  dat's  de  las' 
man  what  he  gwine  to  kill." 

"  An'  you  still  sticks  to  dat  man,  Bahney  ?  "  asked  the 
old  negro  in  expostulation. 


A  FLASK  FOR  TWO  347 

"  Unc  Squiah,  I  done  tole  you  I  gwine  back  home  jest 
as  soon  as  I  can." 

"  Den  now's  de  time.  You  kin  dess  go  right  along 
wi'  me." 

"  No,  Unc  Squiah,  I  can't  go  yit.  I  'xpec'  I've  got  to 
wait  tell  Ginnle  Lee  comes  back  up  dis  a-way  ;  I've  got 
my  things  in  de  camp,  an'  de  men  dey  owes  me  feh 
washin'  an'  I  can't  go  yit ;  but  you  can  jest  count  on  my 
gwine  with  you  when  Ginnle  Lee's  ahrny  comes  back." 

"  Den  w'en  you  heah  de  big  guns,  chile,  an'  I  sen'  you 
wohd,  I  gwine  to  look  fuh  you  to  meet  me." 

"I  do  it,  Unc  Squiah,  sho',  ef  you  jest  sen'  me  de 
wohd." 

"  You  meet  me  up  to  de  fawks  o'  de  road,  Bahney  ?  " 

"  What  fawks  shu  talkin'  'bout,  Unc  Squiah  ?  " 

"  Up  dah  dess  dis  side  o'  Hopewell.  'Gaze  we  got  to 
go  awn  de  yotheh  side  o'  dis  mounting,  chile.  Hit  won't 
do  to  go  awn  dis  side  —  you  know  dat,  Bahney." 

"Yes,  cou'se  I  do,  Unc  Squiah." 

"  Den,  Bahney,  I  gwine  to  look  fuh  you,  dess  es  soon  es 
we  heah  Ginnle  Lee  a-comin'  up  dis  a-way  —  dess  es  soon 
es  we  heah  de  big  guns.  You  gwine  to  meet  me,  Bahney  ?  " 

"  Unc  Squiah,  I  gwine  to  do  it  if  you  jest  sen'  me  wohd. 
If  I  don't,  I  hope  I  may  die." 

"  Don't  shu  fret  'bout  me  not  sennin'  you  no  wohd, 
chile.  I  sen'  you  de  wohd  all  right.  Good-by,  Bahney  ; 
tek  keeh  o'  yo'se'f,  Bahney.  I  gwine  to  look  fuh  you. 
An'  yo'  cap'm  is  a-gwine  to  shoot  Mahs  Usheh  ?  " 

"  Dat's  jest  de  way  he  talks,  Unc  Squiah  ;  but  don't 
shu  go  to  givin'  me  away." 


348  OLD  SQUIRE 

"Lawd,  chile,  you  think  old  Squiah  ain't  got  no 
sense  ?  Ef  you  dess  tek  keeh  o'  yo'sef  dat's  all  I  ax. 
I's  got  to  go,  Bahney.  W'ich  a-way  is  yo'  camp  ? " 

Barney  pointed.  Both  men  had  risen  ;  Squire's  foot 
was  in  the  stirrup  ;  another  instant  he  was  in  the  saddle. 
Then  Barney  stood  alone,  listening  to  the  sounds  of  a  fast 
galloping  horse. 

"  Look  like  Uric  Squiah  he  git  in  a  mighty  big  hurry 
all  at  oncet,"  he  thought. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

FOR   LIFE  AND   LOVE 

"  How  many  score  of  miles  may  we  well  ride 
'Twixt  hour  and  hour  ?  " 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

FROM  Freeman's  camp  a  messenger,  with  a  led  horse, 
had  come  for  Dr.  Lacy,  whose  skill  was  needed  for  the 
wounded. 

Junior  Morgan  was  sitting  on  the  porch  with  Mr. 
West  and  Jennie  ;  night  had  almost  come.  The  talk 
was  not  cheerful ;  son  and  brother  had  been  in  the  fray, 
of  which  the  messenger  could  not  say  more  than  that 
Freeman's  cavalry  had  met  Mosby's  men,  and  that  the 
fight  had  been  bloody. 

"  I  hear  hard  riding,"  said  Morgan. 

There  was  no  response ;  all  were  listening.  Mr.  West 
rose  and  went  into  the  yard. 

Morgan's  wound  was  still  giving  him  trouble,  on  this 
day  more  than  usual ;  he  had  struck  his  shoulder  against 
the  door.  Jennie  had  already  begged  him  not  to  sit 
in  the  night  air. 

They  saw  Mr.  West  go  out  of  the  gate  and  take  stand 
there.  Sounds  of  furious  hoofs  rang  out  on  the  pike 
toward  Aldie.  Whoever  it  was  he  was  riding  for  life. 

349 


350  OLD  SQUIRE 

Morgan  rose,  but  he  did  not  go  out  ...  at  the  mouth 
of  the  lane  a  dark  spot  showed,  growing  instantly  larger 
as  a  single  horseman  came  at  all  speed. 

Jennie  rose  and  stood  by  Junior,  a  little  in  advance. 

The  horseman  had  halted  before  Mr.  West. 

"  Dat  shu,  Mahs  Tom  ?  " 

"  It's  Uncle  Squire,"  whispered  the  girl. 

They  saw  a  man  dismount ;  they  heard  speech  in  low 
tones. 

Mr.  West  was  coming  hurriedly  back.  Jennie  saw 
that  he  had  not  closed  the  gate,  a  neglect  very  unusual, 
and  her  fears  grew  into  torture ;  she  went  down  the 
steps  and  met  him. 

"Oh,  Father,  what  is  it?" 

Outside  the  yard  Morgan  saw  a  motionless  horse,  a 
dismounted  man  standing. 

Mr.  West  did  not  at  once  reply,  and  when  he  spoke 
Jennie  hardly  knew  the  voice. 

"Usher  has  been  captured,  my  dear." 

The  words  gave  her  a  little  relief.  "  Oh,  but  Father, 
that  is  not  as  bad  as  it  might  be." 

Again  he  was  silent.  He  doubted  whether  to  tell  all 
he  had  heard.  But  would  it  not  be  better  for  her  to 
know  now  than  to  be  told  suddenly  when —  ?  He  decided 
to  speak;  his  daughter  was  strong. 

"My  dear,  Squire  says  that  before  he  was  taken  he 
killed  an  officer,  and  that  Captain  Freeman  has  sworn  to 
—  to  —  execute  him." 

"  Mr.  Morgan  !  "  she  called,  and  Junior  came  quickly, 
for  the  voice  was  distressful. 


FOR  LIFE  AND  LOVE  351 

"  Uncle  Squire  !  "  she  called,  and  the  old  man  threw 
his  bridle  over  a  paling  and  came  forward. 

"Now,  Uncle  Squire,  please  tell  Lieutenant  Morgan 
all  you  know." 

Squire  gave  the  facts  of  his  talk  with  Barney,  conceal- 
ing only  his  informant's  name. 

"  Can  you  let  me  have  a  horse,  Mr.  West  ? " 

"  Better  two  and  drive  —  you  ought  not  to  go  horse- 
back." 

"Much  quicker,"  said  the  lieutenant. 

Mr.  West  went  to  his  stable  and  chose  his  easiest 
saddler  and  his  best  —  a  favourite  of  his  own. 

"  Uncle  Squire,  you  must  go  with  Mr.  Morgan.  Won't 
you  go  for  me?" 

"  Yas'm,  I  go  anywhah  you  say,  Miss  Jinnie." 

"  There's  no  need  of  his  going ;  I  can  ride  to  Aldie 
very  well,"  said  Junior. 

"  Yes,  but  I  want  Uncle  Squire  to  go  with  you,"  she 
said  tearfully. 

"  Well,  of  course,  if  you  wish  it.  I  may  be  delayed ; 
I  can  send  him  back  with  comfort  to  you.  I  have  no 
idea  that  Freeman  would  think  for  a  moment  of  it." 

Junior  needed  help  to  mount,  but  once  in  the  saddle 
he  said  he  was  comfortable  ;  the  thing  felt  natural.  The 
pressure  of  Mr.  West's  hand  enkindled  the  highest  resolve. 

They  had  started  —  the  negro  riding  close  to  Junior's 
side. 

After  a  while  Mr.  West  said  :  "  I  wonder  whose  horse 
that  is  that  Squire  is  on.  I  never  once  thought  to  ask 
him." 


352  OLD  SQUIRE 

Junior  Morgan  in  health  was  a  great  rider.  He  had 
been  in  the  First  New  York  cavalry  until  McClellan's 
advance  to  the  Chickahorainy,  and  since  that  time  he  had 
served  as  a  courier  in  all  of  Pleasonton's  campaigns  until 
he  had  received  his  wound.  Now  he  let  his  horse  go ; 
for,  although  he  was  still  very  weak,  and  his  enforced  inac- 
tion had  stiffened  him,  yet  the  need  was  urgent  and  the 
road  was  good. 

Morgan  spoke  but  little  to  the  negro.  He  had  seen 
Squire  at  work  about  the  house  and  yard,  and  had  heard 
Jennie  and  her  father  speak  in  great  praise  of  his  shrewd- 
ness and  his  fidelity,  but  had  never  been  with  him  alone 
until  this  night.  He  took  their  word  for  it  that  the  old 
man  had  brought  no  false  news,  although  he  could  not 
think  that  Freeman  would  be  so  mad  as  to  go  to  the 
extremity  of  his  power  without  first  referring  the  awful 
matter  to  his  superiors. 

Approaching  Freeman's  camp,  Morgan  commanded 
Squire  to  fall  behind  and  remain  without.  He  an- 
swered the  sentinel's  challenge,  and  was  held  until  a 
sergeant,  who  had  been  sent  for,  allowed  him  to  come  in. 
He  asked  for  Freeman,  and  learned  that  the  captain  had 
already  retired.  Then  he  asked  for  Lacy,  and  was  soon 
in  the  doctor's  presence. 

"  What,"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  "you  here,  Morgan?  I 
was  just  going  to  send  an  ambulance  to  bring  you." 

They  shook  hands,  Junior  still  in  the  saddle,  the  doctor 
standing  by. 

"  Is  it  true  that  Captain  Freeman  intends  to  shoot  a  —  a 
prisoner  ?  "  asked  Junior  in  a  halting  voice. 


FOR  LIFE  AND  LOVE  353 

"  Horribly  true.  That  is  just  what  I  was  going  to  send 
after  you  about.  And  it's  young  West !  "  cried  Lacy,  in 
growing  excitement. 

"  Can  I  see  Captain  Freeman  ?  Can't  you  come  at  him, 
Doctor  ?  " 

"  Morgan,  I  have  already  exhausted  every  argument. 
He  is  firm  —  worse,  he  is  unreasonable.  His  head  is 
turned  with  his  loss  —  with  his  loss  of  Brock  particularly. 
I  verily  believe  his  reason  is  in  danger ;  he  acts  like  a 
madman.  He  has  fixed  the  time  for  to-morrow  at  sun- 
set." 

"  You  know  he  has  no  such  authority,"  cried  Morgan. 
"  I  could  have  no  effect,  you  think  ?  " 

"Not  a  particle.  West  was  in  civilian's  clothes,  and 
killed  poor  Brock." 

"  But  in  open  fight  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  West  charged  the  whole  company,  it  seems, 
with  no  help  nearer  than  pistol  range.  That  young  fellow 
has  deceived  me  badly ;  but  I'm  not  going  to  allow  him  to 
be  murdered.  Now,  mark  my  word,  Morgan,  I'm  not 
going  to  allow  it." 

"  Have  you  said  as  much  to  Freeman  ?  "  asked  Junior, 
mildly. 

"Yes — and  enraged  him.  But  I  have  an  idea,"  added 
Lacy,  and  he  shook  his  hand  violently  in  the  direction  of 
the  captain's  tent. 

"  Tell  me  what  it  is,  Doctor." 

"  Mosby  has  taken  Hawley,  who  had  already  given  his 
parole.  Don't  you  remember  ?  " 

"Yes,  my  brother  paroled  him." 
I* 


354  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Well,  I  want  to  get  word  to  Mosby  in  some  way.  I'll 
do  it.  I  don't  care  if  they  cashier  me.  I'll  be  damned  if 
I  let  Freeman  shoot  West,"  and  Lacy  stamped  his  foot  as 
evidence  of  his  earnestness. 

"  I  see  ;  you  want  Mosby  to  threaten  retaliation  upon 
Hawley,"  said  Junior,  calmly,  almost  dissuasively.  He 
doubted  the  wisdom  of  Lacy's  policy. 

"  Exactly,  and  I'm  going  somehow  to  get  word  to  him. 
I'm  going  to  tell  Mr.  West,  and  I'm  sure  he  can  find 
Mosby." 

"Doctor,  don't  go  so  far  as  to  suggest  action  to  Mr. 
West.  Let  him  know,  however,  that  Mosby  holds  Haw- 
ley  ;  that  will  be  enough,  I  think." 

"  Well,  won't  you  tell  Mr.  West  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  going  to  Pleasonton." 

"You?" 

"Yes." 

"I  forbid  it,  sir.  It  might  be  your  death.  I  can't 
think  of  allowing  it,  sir.  You've  already  exerted  yourself 
too  much." 

"  But,  Doctor,  you  ought  to  know  how  close  to  me  this 
matter  is,  and  I'll  pledge  you  my  word  I'll  be  careful." 

Perhaps  Lacy  knew  that  if  uncompromising  issue 
should  be  joined,  his  own  defeat  was  sure.  He  re- 
sponded :  — 

"  Get  somebody  else,  sir.  You  are  in  my  charge,  and  I 
can't  allow  it." 

"  Doctor,  I  promise  you  I  won't  go  alone  ;  I'll  take  help. 
But  you  ought  to  know  that  I  can't  trust  any  one  to  take 
my  place  in  this.  And  then  you  know  that  the  general 


FOR  LIFE  AND  LOVE  355 

will  be  pleased  to  see  me  again,  and  I'm  not  ready  to 
believe  that  he  will  wish  to  refuse  me." 

"  What  help  can  you  take  ?  " 

"Squire  ;  he  came  with  me." 

"  I  forbid  your  going,"  yet  the  tones  were  softer,  and 
Junior  felt  that  his  conciliatory  speech  had  been  better 
than  persevering  in  an  open  declaration  of  resolve. 

"  Doctor,  what  would  I  think  of  myself  if  I  should  leave 
anything  undone?  Now,  if  you  will  manage  your  plan 
while  I  try  the  general,  I  shall  have  great  hope  that  we'll 
succeed.  And  if  I  shouldn't  go,  and  we  should  fail,  you 
know  I  could  never  forgive  myself  ;  and  you  know  there 
are  others  who  would  never  forgive." 

"  Go,  Morgan  ;  I  see  you  are  determined  to  risk  your 
life  ;  "  yet  the  voice  was  not  harsh,  for  Lacy  knew  how 
it  was  with  Morgan. 

"  Then  I  want  you  to  come  out  with  me,  Doctor  ;  we 
can  talk  as  we  ride  to  Squire,  and  I  shall  beg  you  to  ex- 
change horses  with  him,  for  his  has  already  done  a  hard 
day's  work." 

"  I'll  go  out  with  you  ;  but  my  horse  is  not  fresh  him- 
self, and  I  don't  know  that  you'd  gain  anything  by 
changing." 

Yet,  compared  with  Squire's,  the  horse  had  done  little 
on  this  day,  and  the  exchange  was  made. 

"Now,  Doctor,  all  you  need  to  say  to  Mr.  West  is 
that  Mosby  has  taken  Hawley." 

Junior  distrusted  Lacy's  plan  ;  he  could  see  that  it 
might  work  contrary  to  his  hopes.  A  Union  general 
could  hardly  be  expected  to  lower  his  plumes  at  Mosby's 


356  OLD  SQUIRE 

dictation  ;  indeed,  would  not  the  demand  of  the  guerilla 
be  rather  resented  than  complied  with?  Yet  there  was 
the  chance  that  Freeman  might  be  brought  to  reason  by 
Mosby's  threat :  better  not  give  up  this  chance,  for 
Junior's  own  mission  might  fail.  And  with  this  thought 
there  came  a  swift  idea  into  Morgan's  brain  :  he  knew 
how  to  make  the  most  of  the  situation. 

"  You  believe  he  will  see  ?  I  tell  you,  Morgan,  if  he 
doesn't,  I'll  speak  out.  I'll  tell  him  straight  that  he 
must  find  Mosby  and  get  him  to  threaten." 

"  There  will  be  no  need,  sir  ;  Mr.  West  will  do  that 
without  urging.  And  you  ought  to  tell  him  in  such  a 
way  that  he  won't  see  what  you  intend.  There  is  no  use 
for  you  to  get  into  trouble  about  this  thing.  I  don't  know 
but  it  would  be  better  for  me  to  write  to  Mr.  West." 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all.  What  harm  can  anybody  make 
out  of  my  telling  him  that  Hawley  has  been  taken  ?  " 

"None,  so  that  your  motive  is  not  told." 

"  But  does  he  know  that  Hawley  accepted  a  parole  ?  " 

"  You  can  easily  find  out  by  his  talk  ;  if  he  knows  it, 
you  will  hear  from  him." 

"  Yes,  but  if  he  doesn't,  then  I'll  tell  him,  and  tell  him 
short.  I  suppose  I'll  find  him  awake  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  and  Junior  sighed,  thinking  of  the  sleepless 
night  before  one  he  loved. 

They  parted.  It  was  already  past  midnight  when  old 
Squire  took  the  front,  making  for  the  Warrenton  road. 
A  great  and  slow  detour  was  necessary  in  order  to  avoid 
the  camp  ;  but  once  in  the  road  for  Haymarket,  he  struck 
a  trot  and  kept  it. 


FOR  LIFE  AND  LOVE  357 

The  night  was  going  —  neither  moon  nor  stars  to  light 
the  road  —  and  twenty-five  miles  to  Warrenton.  But 
would  Pleasonton  be  found  at  Warrenton  ?  To  Warren- 
ton  the  distance  was  known ;  but  Pleasonton  might  be 
elsewhere.  And  for  fear  that  the  general  might  be 
called  away  early  on  this  day,  Morgan  decided  to  do  his 
best  riding  at  the  first. 

"  How  long  till  day,  Squire  ?  " 

"  But  a  houh  V  a  ha'f  o'  leetle  betteh,  Mahsta." 

Squire  was  unused  to  Junior  ;  his  indefinite  "  Mahsta  " 
sounded  wrong  in  his  own  ears  —  this  man  was  so  like 
his  Mahs  Dan. 

"  Three  hours  till  sunrise  ?  " 

"Yassah." 

"  Six  miles  an  hour,  Squire  ;  yes,  better  make  it  seven 
—  yes,  eight." 

Old  Squire  struck  his  heels  into  his  horse's  sides  and 
darted  on. 

"  Halt !  "  cried  Junior,  "  that's  not  the  gait ;  you'll 
break  down  at  the  start,"  and  for  a  while  he  rode  at  the 
front  to  set  the  pace. 

"  How  you  holdin'  out,  Mahsta  ?  " 

"  Moderately  well ;  I  can  stand  it,"  but  the  words 
belied  the  feeling. 

Squire  himself  was  not  in  good  shape.  Just  forty- 
eight  hours  ago  he  had  risen  in  order  to  reach  Miss 
Jinnie  in  time  to  help  her  get  breakfast.  His  day's  work 
had  not  been  hard,  but  the  night  that  had  followed,  and 
the  day  that  had  followed  the  night  —  if  he  had  thought 
of  it  he  would  have  felt  that  a  bed  of  flint  would  be 


358  OLD  SQUIRE 

sweet.  And  there  could  be  no  great  rest  for  either  until 
they  had  covered  twenty-five  miles  and  twenty  back. 

Dawn  came  upon  them  at  Catharpin  Run  ;  Squire  said 
they  had  made  ten  miles.  Morgan's  shoulder  and  back 
were  aching  horribly ;  but  he  kept  his  mouth  shut,  and 
followed  Squire. 

While  the  east  was  red  they  rode  through  Haymarket 
—  losing  time  here,  for  they  were  halted.  But  the  halt 
was  not  long,  and  the  cessation  from  jolting  gave  Morgan 
a  little  relief.  Besides,  he  learned  that  Pleasonton  was 
just  on  the  edge  of  Warrenton. 

At  sunrise  they  were  nearing  Buckland  Mills,  and  here 
Morgan's  suffering  was  so  great  that  he  thoroughly  de- 
cided that  he  was  unable  to  go  on  without  resting,  and 
he  halted ;  but  at  once  there  came  the  belief  that  if  he 
should  rest  he  would  never  have  the  strength  to  remount, 
even  with  help  —  and  he  rode  on,  following  Squire. 

The  negro  had  turned  ;  he  saw  Junior  reeling  in  the 
saddle,  the  horse  keeping  a  swift  amble. 

"Mahsta,"  and  Squire  halted,  and  thrust  his  hand 
into  his  haversack,  "Mahsta,  tek  some  o'  dis.  Hit'll 
do  you  good." 

Morgan  seized  upon  the  flask  and  emptied  it. 

"  God,  Squire  I  You  are  a  great  man  ! "  Yet  the 
words  were  feebly  said. 

Both  horses  were  showing  great  weariness  ;  the  sun 
was  climbing  up  ;  but  around  them  were  camped  artil- 
lery, and  wagons  parked.  Morgan  urged  ahead  of  Squire ; 
his  new-found  strength  could  not  last  —  he  must  make 
the  most  of  it. 


FOR  LIFE  AND  LOVE  359 

.  .  .  General  Pleasonton  was  leaning  over  a  table  un- 
der a  great  tent-fly,  his  adjutant,  Cohen,  opposite.  The 
Union  cavalry  leader  looked  annoyed  ;  last  night  he  had 
learned  of  Mosby's  escape  after  defeating  Freeman's  com- 
mand, and  he  was  now  deliberating  over  the  plan  for  a 
formidable  movement  upon  the  slippery  partisan  —  a  move- 
ment from  three  directions.  Outside,  a  guard  stood  at 
carry  arms.  The  general  was  speaking  to  Captain  Cohen. 

"Halt! "  came  from  the  guard,  and  at  once,  again,  " Halt! 
halt !  Have  some  sense,  man,  or  I'll  be  compelled  to 
fire !  "  and  at  the  words  both  Pleasonton  and  his  adjutant 
sprang  to  their  feet,  for  it  was  evident  from  the  guard's 
tones  and  speech  that  some  rude,  perhaps  drunken,  man 
was  endeavouring  to  force  his  way  to  the  general. 

What  Pleasonton  saw  was  an  old  negro,  in  the  act  of 
sliding  from  his  horse.  What  Cohen  saw  was  more  :  he 
saw  the  negro,  and  he  saw  a  white  man  —  very  white  — 
his  hat  falling,  his  body  bent  aside  and  forward,  hands 
clutching,  as  though  by  instinct,  at  the  mane  of  a  foam- 
covered  horse,  and  the  next  instant  seeming  to  lose  all 
strength  and  go  down.  Captain  Cohen  sprang  forward, 
and  with  old  Squire  received  the  man  and  let  him  gently 
to  the  earth. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  asked  the  captain. 

General  Pleasonton  was  now  at  his  side,  in  apprehen- 
sion of  alarming  news,  for  the  horses  showed  unmistakable 
signs  of  having  come  fast  and  far. 

"  Mahs  Dan  Mawgin,  sah,"  said  Squire. 

"  Great  Scott  1  "  cried  the  captain,  "  where  did  you 
come  from  ?  " 


360  OLD  SQUIRE 

But  General  Pleasonton  ordered  the  guard  to  come, 
and  together  they  lifted  Morgan  and  brought  him  into 
the  general's  tent.  Cohen  got  water  and  brandy  ;  he 
raised  Morgan,  propping  him  with  camp-stools  and  what- 
ever else  he  could  quickly  lay  hands  on,  and  succeeded 
in  pouring  some  liquor  down  him.  Meanwhile  the  gen- 
eral had  sent  for  a  surgeon. 

"  Tell  us  why  you've  come,  Morgan,"  said  the  general. 

Junior  tried  to  speak,  but  failed.  He  looked  beseech- 
ingly at  Squire,  and  the  old  man  understood  ;  so  did  the 
others. 

"  He  wants  you  to  speak,"  said  the  general. 

"  Yassah  ;  dey  wants  to  shoot  Mahs  U sheh,  Mahs  Cap'm, 
an'  Mahsta  dah  he  don't  want  Mahs  Usheh  to  git  shot, 
an'  so  he  up  an'  he  ride  down  heah  whah  he  say  he  gwine 
to  fine  de  big  ginnle,  'caze  he  say  de  big  ginnle  he  good 
man  w'at  not  a-gwine  to  stan'  by  an'  see  Mahs  Usheh  git 
shot.  But  we  done  guv  out,  Mahs  Cap'm,  an'  we  can't 
git  to  de  ginnle,  an'  I  dess  a-gwine  right  now  to  beg  you, 
Mahs  Cap'm,  oh,  feh  de  Lawd's  sake,  sen'  wohd  to  de  big 
ginnle  so  Mahs  Usheh  he  won't  git  shot !  "  and  then  the 
old  man,  whose  voice  had  broken  more  and  more,  col- 
lapsed in  a  mighty  spasm  of  sobs. 

"And  who  is  Usher?"  asked  General  Pleasonton, 
quickly,  "and  where  is  all  this?" 

"  Dat's  Mahs  Usheh  Wes',"  cried  Squire.  "  You  dunno 
Mahs  Tom  Wes'  w'at  live  mos'  by  ouah  house,  mos'  up 
to  Middlebuhg?  He  de  man  w'at  be'n  tek  keeh  o' 
Mahsta  dah  all  dis  time.  But  Mahs  Cap'm,  please  sah, 
won't  shu  sen'  wohd  to  de  ginnle  ?  " 


FOR  LIFE  AND  LOVE  861 

But  the  brandy  by  this  time  had  brought  back  some 
strength,  and  Junior  feebly  spoke,  "  I'll  try  to  explain, 
General." 

"  Take  your  own  time,  Morgan.  Cohen,  give  him  some 
more  of  that  brandy  ...  no  great  disturbance  anywhere, 
Morgan  ?  " 

"  No,  General ;  it  is  only  a  matter  of  one  or  two 
men." 

Pleasonton  sat  down ;  his  greater  fears  were  over  — 
and  he  could  take  the  matter  of  one  or  two  men  easily. 

44  The  old  man  is  right,  General.  Captain  Freeman 
threatens  to  execute  a  prisoner." 

"  And  his  reason,  Morgan  ?  Why  has  he  not  referred 
the  thing  to  me  ?  He  must  be  crazy  !  " 

"  He  was  taken  in  citizen's  clothing,  sir  —  a  member  of 
Mosby's  command  .  .  .  and  I  will  not  deceive  you,  he 
had  the  misfortune  to  kill  Lieutenant  Brock  .  .  .  but 
it  was  in  broad  day  and  open  fight." 

"  Why  didn't  Freeman  shoot  him  at  once  ?  This  wait- 
ing, waiting  I  He  should  have  shot  the  bushwhacker  in 
his  tracks." 

"  It  seems,  sir,  that  West  was  taken  by  one  wing  of  the 
company  and  carried  off,  and  that  it  was  an  hour  or  two 
later  when  he  was  brought  to  Captain  Freeman.  Kindly 
give  me  a  little  more  brandy,  Captain  ;  and  if  you  will 
show  Squire  there  how  to  get  some  breakfast,  I'll  thank 
you  very  much." 

Junior  had  made  these  requests  less  for  the  physical 
wants  of  himself  and  the  negro  than  from  the  wish  to  see 
Pleasonton  alone. 


362  OLD  SQUIRE 

"General,  I'm  going  to  tell  you  everything.  You've 
been  very  good  to  me." 

"  Morgan,  don't  mention  it.  This  is  a  personal  matter 
with  you  ?  " 

"Deeply  and  terribly  so,  General.  You  have  learned 
that  I  have  a  brother  in  Lee's  army;  when  I  was  wounded 
he  sent  this  old  negro  to  Captain  Freeman  with  an  invita- 
tion to  come  and  get  me.  I  was  taken  by  Dr.  Lacy  in  an 
ambulance  —  but  I  suppose  you  know  all  this,  General  ; 
I  wrote  you  about  it." 

"Yes,  but  go  on." 

"Lacy  found  Stuart's  cavalry  in  the  way  and  had  to 
halt.  A  gentleman  named  West  took  us  into  his  house 
and  cared  for  us  ;  we  have  been  there  now  nearly  two 
months.  Mr.  West's  family  is  himself,  a  daughter,  and  a 
son,  —  and  the  son  is  with  Mosby,  —  Usher  West.  Usher 
agreed  at  the  very  first  to  protect  Lacy  and  me  from  all 
trouble  by  the  Confederates.  To  Mr.  West  and  his  daugh- 
ter I  owe  my  life,  General.  You  see  how  personal  this 
whole  matter  is  ;  I  am  begging  for  myself,  just  as  I  would 
beg  for  my  own  life  at  your  hands." 

"  I  see  ;  the  daughter,  eh,  Morgan  ? "  and  Pleasonton 
smiled  sagely. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  but  indeed,  outside  of  that,  Mr.  West  is  a 
noble  man,  worthy  of  all  respect  you  may  show  him  in  the 
way  of  leniency  in  this  matter,  sir.  He  has  kept  me 
safe  and  Dr.  Lacy  as  well,  and  when  I  began  to  speak 
of  recompense  I  believe  that  I  offended  him." 

"  Morgan,  it  is  not  to  my  liking  to  see  prisoners  exe- 
cuted, but  what  can  I  do  ?  Will  not  every  bushwhacker 


FOR  LIFE  AND  LOVE  363 

at  once  be  encouraged  to  go  on  with  his  deviltry?  Of 
course  Freeman  must  be  brought  up  with  a  jerk,  and  he 
must  be  taught  not  to  exceed  his  authority ;  but  in  the 
end,  what  can  I  do  ?  " 

"  General,  I  think  you  would  have  ample  justification 
for  holding  West  a  prisoner-of-war.  Something  else  has 
happened  that  would  not  only  save  appearances,  but 
would  give  you  good  room  for  action." 

"Ah!     What?" 

"A  man  in  Freeman's  ranks,  Private  Hawley,  was 
taken  about  a  month  ago  by  a  squad  of  Confederates  and 
was  paroled.  It  was  a  mere  sergeant  that  did  the  thing, 
and  Freeman  refused  to  recognize  the  parole.  Now,  Haw- 
ley  has  been  taken  by  Mosby,  and  it  is  possible  that  Mosby 
will  hear  of  West's  danger  and  will  notify  Captain  Free- 
man that  the  execution  of  West  would  be  followed  by  that 
of  Hawley  for  violation  of  parole." 

"What!"  and  the  general  rose.  "Great  heavens, 
Morgan,  that  would  never  do !  No,  sir!  What !  to 
be  menaced  that  way  by  Mosby  !  How  could  we  ever 
surrender  ?  No ;  I  tell  you,  sir,  that  if  Mosby  makes 
that  threat  he'll  ruin  his  own  plan,  and  will  ruin  all  your 
own  hopes  !  " 

"  Then  there  are  hopes,  General  ?  " 

"Morgan,  we  must  prevent  Mosby  from  making  any 
such  threat." 

"  Mosby's  a  quick  man,  General.  He  may  already  have 
threatened,"  said  Morgan,  hypocritically,  seeing  his  scheme 
work  just  contrary  to  Lacy's  method,  and  in  exact 
accordance  with  his  own  idea. 


364  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  No  matter.  All  that  the  conditions  require  is  that  the 
execution  be  forbidden  before  his  threat  reaches  me." 

"  Oh,  General,  you  are  going  to  do  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  send  one  of  my  couriers  with  command 
at  once." 

"  Oh,  General  Pleasouton,  I  could  kiss  your  hands  ! 
But  I  want  to  take  that  order  myself.  Am  I  not  your 
courier  ?  " 

"  But  you  cannot  ride,  Morgan." 
*##**** 

And  when  Junior,  at  noon,  tried  to  mount,  he  failed, 
even  with  help.  But  a  way  was  provided,  and  he  carried 
the  order. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

ONE  WAY  TO  SWAP  HORSES 

"  Brother,  by  myn  hals, 
Now  I  ha YC  aspied  thou  art  a  party  fals." 

—  GAMELTW  . 

LACY  gave  Mr.  West  the  news  that  Lieutenant  Morgan 
had  gone  to  intercede  with  Pleasonton,  and  had  taken 
Squire  with  him.  Then,  without  beating  the  bush,  he 
advised  Mr.  West  of  his  plan  to  abet  the  Confederates  in 
the  matter  of  setting  Hawley  against  Usher.  Mr.  West 
at  once  rode  away  ;  he  knew  not  where  Mosby  was  hold- 
ing himself,  but  he  had  little  doubt  that  he  should  find 
members  of  the  band  at  their  homes,  and  even  before 
Junior  reached  Pleasonton,  Mr.  West  was  in  Mosby's 
presence  and  had  told  his  purpose. 

Sergeant  Morgan  had  already  recognized  Hawley,  and 
that  prisoner  was  not  happy  ;  but  Mr.  West  himself 
was  the  first  to  bring  tidings  of  Usher's  condition  and  of 
Freeman's  threats.  The  matter  developed  into  Morgan's 
going  alone  to  bear  a  message  from  Mosby  to  the  effect 
that  Hawley,  for  violation  of  parole,  would  summarily  be 
shot  in  case  Freeman's  threat  should  be  carried  out. 

For  all  answer,  Morgan,  after  having  been  held  by 
the  sentinel  for  a  full  hour,  was  informed  that  Captain 

365 


8M  OLD  SQUIRE 

Freeman  had  no  communication  to  make  to  bushwhack- 
ers. 

Mr.  West  had  waited  until  Morgan's  return. 

**  How  is  my  brother  now  ?  "  the  sergeant  asked,  spite 
of  the  farmer's  cruel  suspense,  indeed  with  a  desire  to 
deflect  his  thought. 

44  Gone  to  General  Pleasonton  to  intercede  for  Usher. 
Oh,  Dan,  that's  a  noble  fellow ;  do  you  know  what  he 
told  me  ?  He  says  that  his  grandfather's  will  was  in 
favour  of  Daniel  Morgan,  and  that  you  shall  have  every 
cent  of  the  property." 

"Tell  him  I'll  share  mine  with  him!  I'm  rich  enough 
for  both  if  he  ever  wants  anything.  I  won't  touch  it ! " 

44  Just  what  I  told  him,"  said  West. 

44  Gone  to  Pleasonton  !  He'll  succeed,  I  do  pray  and 
hope.  But  can  he  stand  it  ?  " 

44  He  took  Squire.  I  hope  he  can  make  it,  but  — "  and 
Mr.  West  cut  his  speech  short  through  fear  of  losing 
self-control. 

Dr.  Lacy  had  returned  to  Freeman's  camp,  but  was 
holding  himself  aloof  from  the  captain.  The  day  was 
wearing  on,  the  little  camp  more  and  more  gloomy  ;  every 
sound  man  was  on  duty,  guarding  the  roads,  the  entire 
company  always  under  arms.  Freeman's  excited  condition 
caused  much  talk  ;  and  as  it  became  current  that  Hawley 
was  a  prisoner  under  threat  of  retaliating  upon  him  the 
penalty  which  Freeman  seemed  resolved  to  inflict  upon 
West,  murmurs  of  deep  displeasure  began  to  run  ;  while 
it  was  true  that  Freeman's  orders  must  be  obeyed,  yet  it 
was  clear  that  in  this  matter  he  was  transcending  his  own 


ONE  WAY  TO   SWAP  HORSES  867 

powers,  and  more  than  one  man  swore  loudly  not  to  serve 
if  ordered  on  the  detail  for  execution.  The  sergeants 
endeavoured  to  quiet  such  talk,  but  their  efforts  were  vain, 
and  at  length  one  of  them  informed  the  captain  that  it 
would  be  dangerous  to  proceed  ;  but  the  warning  had  no 
seeming  effect,  and  in  the  afternoon  the  orderly-sergeant 
notified  each  man  of  the  detail  for  execution. 

But  now,  Mosby,  who,  had  he  known  of  the  condition, 
tantamount  to  mutiny,  of  Freeman's  camp,  might  have 
refrained  from  the  act,  sent  Morgan  with  a  second  message, 
which  seemed  to  increase  the  violence  of  Captain  Freeman's 
rage  ;  for  Mosby  served  notice  that,  if  West  suffered, 
then  every  man  of  Freeman's  company  who  should  there- 
after be  captured  by  the  partisan  would  be  shot  down 
without  delay.  To  this  message,  Sergeant  Morgan,  after 
waiting  long,  returned  without  answer. 

Freeman,  however,  had  been  staggered  by  Mosby's 
threats,  and  it  was  nothing  but  pride  that  still  held  him 
to  his  resolution  —  he  wished  himself  well  out  of  the 
trouble.  But  his  men,  hearing  of  the  last  threat,  turned 
about,  also  through  pride,  and  declared  that  they  would 
not  bend  an  inch  for  Mosby  and  his  high  talk  —  they 
would  meet  death  with  death. 

Lacy's  uneasiness  had  never  been  shown  so  great,  and 
toward  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  he  rode  out  of  the 
camp,  taking  the  way  to  Haymarket,  up  which  he  ex- 
pected Lieutenant  Morgan  to  come,  his  nervousness  such 
that  he  felt  the  need  of  ending  it  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment. 

He  had  ridden  at  a  slow  walk  more  than  a  mile  when, 


868  OLD  SQUIRE 

from  a  height,  he  saw  far  at  the  south  a  moving  spot  in 
the  road  ;  he  halted,  for  he  knew  at  once  that  here  was 
something  greater  than  a  horseman,  or  even  than  two. 
The  object  was  moving  northward  and  rapidly,  but  soon 
a  turn  of  the  road  hid  the  thing  from  view,  and  when  it 
next  appeared  the  doctor  saw  some  half  a  dozen  cavalry- 
men coming  at  a  gallop,  and  close  behind  them  an  ambu- 
lance drawn  by  four  horses. 

Lacy  had  already  sent  his  wounded  to  Fairfax,  and  he 
wondered  why  this  ambulance  from  the  direction  of 
Warrenton  was  coming  to  his  help  ;  but  almost  at  once 
he  conceived  the  truth  —  General  Pleasonton  had  sent  his 
exhausted  aide  back  in  this  degree  of  comfort,  and  it 
meant  that  Morgan  had  succeeded  ;  he  put  spurs  to  his 
horse. 

The  doctor  found  Morgan  propped  with  mattresses,  and 
incapable  of  continuous  speech.  Old  Squire  was  curled 
up  asleep.  The  tired  horses  they  had  ridden  had  been 
left  behind  to  be  sent  on  later.  In  a  minute  Lacy  had 
the  situation.  The  squad  were  to  go  on  without  Morgan 
in  case  the  lieutenant  should  be  forced  to  halt. 

Feeling  it  better  that  Freeman  should  not  yet  learn  of 
Morgan's  appeal  to  Pleasonton,  Lacy  now  commanded  the 
deflection  of  the  ambulance  to  Mr.  West's,  and  with  half 
of  the  squad  rode  back  to  camp,  where  he  remained  until 
he  knew  that  the  general's  instructions  had  been  delivered, 
and  that  the  orderly-sergeant  had  notified  the  detailed 
men  that  they  were  discharged  ;  then  he  galloped  hard 
and  overtook  his  patient. 

Junior's  hopeful  condition  had  been  greatly  impaired  ; 


ONE  WAY  TO  SWAP  HORSES  369 

he  had  brought  joy  in  regard  to  Usher,  but  extreme 
anxiety  concerning  himself,  and  not  only  Jennie  was 
oppressed  by  fears  for  his  life,  but  even  her  father  failed 
to  conceal  his  emotion  as  he  assisted  in  bearing  the 
Federal  to  his  bed. 

In  the  meanwhile  Major  Mosby  had  made  his  arrange- 
ments for  sending  his  prisoners  and  most  valuable  cap- 
tures to  the  army  under  General  Lee,  and  had  distributed 
to  his  men  whatever  would  be  too  cumbrous  for  such  a 
journey,  which  must  be  made  with  exceeding  caution  and 
rapidity.  By  means  of  his  scouts,  he  learned  that  the 
threatened  execution  of  West  had  not  been  carried  into 
effect,  and  a  messenger  sent  to  Mr.  West's  returned  after 
nightfall  with  complete  information.  Then  Mosby  put 
his  train  in  motion;  all  the  night  he  moved  southwest 
through  Loudoun  Valley,  and  when  the  sun  rose  he  was 
at  Orleans,  and  almost  in  safety.  Here  he  disbanded  his 
men  except  but  a  few,  with  whom  he  brought  his  prizes  to 
Stuart's  cavalry.  This  journey  took  Sergeant  Morgan 
and  his  friends  back  into  the  First  Virginia  —  yet  not  all 
of  his  friends.  West  was  now  in  a  Federal  prison,  and 
Squire  had  been  left  with  Junior  Morgan  ;  for  even  Arm- 
strong had  a  bitter  pride  in  insisting  that  Jennie's  only 
help  should  not  be  taken  away. 

»*#**** 

Again  for  long  weeks  Andrew  Morgan  lay  at  West's, 
his  mind  always  in  the  fever  of  hope,  his  hurts  almost  be- 
yond it  for  a  time.  Upon  the  matter  of  his  relations  with 
both,  Jennie  refrained  from  speech  with  her  father,  wisely 
discerning  that  Mr.  West's  opposition  had  been  so  shaken 
fl 


370  OLD  SQUIRE 

that  with  little  more  it  would  be  entirely  overcome.  She 
would  leave  all  to  time  ;  needless  to  revive  obstinacy  by 
pressing  upon  wounded  pride,  for  it  was  clear  that  the  old 
man  felt  humbled  in  the  presence  of  a  devotion  to  love 
and  merciful  duty  that  he  had  considered  the  right,  by 
preemption,  of  the  Southerner  ;  yet  was  there  the  comfort 
that  Junior  was  a  Virginian  born. 

Naturally,  old  Squire  was  a  great  hero,  and  enjoyed  his 
high  honours  ;  yet  he  was  at  all  times  weighed  down  by  a 
sense  of  neglected  duty  in  regard  to  Armstrong,  and 
every  day  he  would  tell  Mahs  Dan,  as  he  now  persisted  in 
calling  Andrew,  that  the  time  must  soon  come  for  his 
departure.  Between  Squire  and  Morgan  a  great  attach- 
ment seemed  to  grow  —  the  soldier  silent,  listening 
eagerly  to  all  that  the  negro  would  tell  of  the  sergeant, 
and  of  all  his  friends.  Morgan  willingly  learned  to  love 
his  brother  even  before  he  knew  him. 

As  to  the  household,  there  was  no  longer  any  fear  con- 
cerning Federal  or  Confederate,  Pleasonton's  protection 
having  been  accorded  to  Mr.  West,  and  Mosby  keeping 
aloof  with  greatest  good-will.  At  one  time  Dr.  Lacy  had 
ridden  through  a  squad  of  armed  men  clad  in  civilian's 
garb  who  all  raised  their  hats  and  gave  him  the  road  ;  for 
now  the  doctor  had  more  patients  than  one,  his  services 
being  demanded  for  serious  cases  at  the  camp,  and  even 
by  some  of  Mr.  West's  neighbours.  The  place  had  be- 
come a  haven,  protected  by  breakwaters  against  which 
alone  the  tides  might  dash. 

Early  in  October  Junior  began  again  to  grow  better, 
and  Lacy  had  fixed  the  day  of  their  departure  —  an  appoint- 


ONE  WAY  TO  SWAP  HORSES  871 

ment  that  brought  greater  joy  to  Squire  perhaps  than 
to  any  other  of  the  family.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  12th 
they  were  all  sitting  on  the  wide  porch,  the  negro's  slight 
form  on  the  lowest  step,  his  gray  head  bowed. 

Abruptly  Squire  moved,  and  then  rose. 

"  Didn'  shu  heahed  'em,  Mahs  Tom  ?  " 

44  Hear  what,  Squire  ?  "  asked  Mr.  West. 

"Heah  de  big  guns.  Dah,  heah  dat  ag'in  .  .  .  Dah 
now  I " 

But  to  the  ear  of  none  other  had  the  sounds  come. 

"Mahs  Tom,  I  'spec'  I  hatto  go." 

44 1  guess  it's  nothing  but  some  long  range  firing  that  he 
hears,"  said  Junior. 

"  No,  Mahs  Dan,  dem  guns  is  a-comin'.  I  be'n  knowed 
dat  dey's  a-gwine  to  come,  an'  now  dey's  a-comin'.  You 
know  Ginnle  Lee,  Mahs  Dan,  an'  you  know  Ginnle 
Stuaht,  an'  Mahs  Fitz,  an'  all  dem  yotheh  cunnels  ?  Dey's 
a-gwine  to  come  back  dis  a- way  feh  sho'.  Dey  not 
a-gwine  to  res'  easy  in  dey  beds  tell  dey  gits  back  heah 
whah  dey  b'longs  to.  De  good  book  hit  say  dat  w'at  goes 
up  is  a-gwine  to  come  down  ag'in,  an'  dat's  dess  de  way 
dey  be'n  a-doin'  eveh  sence  dat  night  w'at  de  fust  Mahs 
Dan  an'  Mahs  Joe  Lewis  dey  fust  come  to  ouah  house  — 
dey  dess  be'n  a-comin'  an'  a-gwyin'  all  de  time  —  you  heah 
dat  now,  don't  shu  ?  "  and  this  time  Junior  heard. 

*4  Mahs  Tom,  I  'spec'  you  all  is  got  to  'scuse  me.  I  dess 
got  to  go  to  my  young  mahsta." 

44  Better  wait  a  day  or  two,  Uncle  Squire,"  said  Morgan, 
who  had  adopted  Jennie's  mode  of  address.  "If  the  armies 
are  moving  this  way,  every  day's  march  will  help  you  — 


372  OLD  SQUIRE 

you  might  get  lost  or  run  into  some  people  you  don't 
want  to  see,  you  know.  Suppose  you  should  stumble  on 
the  man  who  owned  your  horse  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  dat's  de  Gawd's  troof ;  an'  I  done  had  trouble 
enough  a-hidin'  'im.  But  I  ain't  a-frettin'  much  'bout  any 
of  'em,  'scusin'  dat  same  Cap'm  Freeman,  an'  I  ain't  got 
no  call  to  mix  up  wid  him  no  mo'e." 

"  If  he  should  ever  get  you,  Squire,  he  will  hardly  let 
you  go  to  the  general  again,"  said  the  doctor,  who  knew 
that  Freeman  had  learned  of  Squire's  ride  with  Junior. 

"  No,  Mahs  Doctoh,  but  fust  I  ain't  a-gwine  to  let  'im 
git  me  no  rno'e.  I  don't  git  along  wi'  dem  big  Yankee 
ginnles.  I  dess  can't  put  up  wid  'em,  nohow.  But 
Ginnle  Stuaht  an'  Mahs  Fitz,  dem's  de  kin'  o'  ginnles  feh 
po'  niggeh  lak  me." 

"  Squire,  you  are  full  of  mistakes,"  said  Lacy ;  "  your 
signs  are  all  wrong.  You  had  a  sign  once  before  and  it 
came  to  nothing,  and  now  this  notion  of  yours  that  Lee  is 
advancing  is  worth  no  more  than  your  old  sign." 

"  Yassah,  but  Mahs  Doctoh,  me  an'  somebody's  a-gwine 
to  be  mighty  bad  awff  some  o'  dese  days  ef  dat  ole  un  is 
es  good  es  dis  un.  Ain't  shu  gwine  oveh  to  de  camp 
to-day,  sah  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Den  I  ax  you,  sah,  dat  ef  you  sees  Bahney — you 
knows  Bahney,  sah  ?  " 

"  Captain  Freeman's  man  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  ef  you  sees  Bahney,  I  be  mighty  'bleeged  to 
you,  sah,  ef  you  tell  'im  dat  ole  Squiah's  a-gwine  to  light 
out  f'om  dese  diggin's,  an'  ef  he  got  any  wohd  to  sen'  to 


374  OLD  SQUIRE 

he  ole  mammy  he  kin  git  it  ready ;  an'  ef  he  sen'  it  to  me 
up  at  de  fawks  o'  de  road  mos'  to  Hopewell,  I  tek  it." 

"  Certainly,  Squire,  I'll  tell  him  for  you  with  pleasure." 

There  were  no  more  sounds  of  artillery,  but  Lacy  rode 
to  camp,  and  when  he  returned  at  night  it  was  with  an 
ambulance.  He  told  that  the  camp  would  be  broken  up  ; 
the  troops  would  move  to  the  front,  for  it  was  known  that 
Lee's  army  was  in  motion  northward. 

On  the  next  morning  Lacy  took  his  patient  away  in  the 
midst  of  a  scene  of  silence  and  grief  that  must  be  for- 
borne. 

Squire  rode  southward  alone.  He  had  provender  for 
his  horse,  food  for  himself,  and  money  given  him  by  Ju- 
nior. Lacy  had  wanted  to  give  Squire  a  written  statement 
that  he  had  rendered  good  service  to  a  Union  officer,  but 
consideration  of  the  matter  with  Morgan  had  made  him 
abandon  his  design  for  fear  that  Confederates  might 
examine  the  bearer;  so,  for  the  contrary  reason,  lest 
Squire  should  fall  into  Federal  hands,  the  lieutenant  had 
decided  to  write  no  letter  to  his  brother,  and  simply 
charged  the  old  man  with  verbal  messages  of  kindness. 

In  these  parts  every  footpath  was  familiar  to  the  negro, 
every  farmer's  face  and  name.  North  of  the  Manassas 
railroad  he  had  no  fear  of  molestation.  As  for  Federals, 
he  had  confidence  that  they  were  having  enough  to  do  to 
resist  Stuart,  whose  cannon  could  now  be  heard  with  greater 
distinctness. 

"  Wondeh  ef  dat  boy's  a-gwine  to  do  w'at  he  promus'd," 
was  the  old  man's  thought.  "  He  done  went  back  awn  me 
oveh  in  Mellan'  and  Penns'vania,  an'  I  ain't  had  no  'scuse 


ONE  WAY  TO  SWAP  HORSES  375 

feh  mixin'  up  wid  him  no  mo'e.  De  good  book  hit  say 
dat  ef  a  man  tell  you  one  lie  he  tell  you  a  thousan',  an'  I 
b'lieve  hit's  right.  I  gwine  to  wait  fuh  him,  but  I  not 
a-gwine  to  wait  tell  I  git  cotch,  now  I  let  shu  know 
dat." 

As  he  rode  southward,  skirting  the  western  edges  of 
Bull  Run  Mountains,  the  intermittent  sound  of  cannon 
grew  and  grew,  and  from  the  varied  sounds  he  knew  the 
discharges  came  from  no  one  spot :  some  were  much  nearer 
than  others ;  they  seemed  to  be  pounding  along  a  great 
line  stretching  east  and  west. 

At  noon  he  was  near  Hopewell.  He  must  halt  at  the 
junction  of  the  two  roads  where  he  had  given  Barney 
rendezvous.  He  would  turn  into  the  woods  that  he  might 
be  secreted  from  view,  and  watch  toward  the  north  for 
Barney's  coming.  At  his  left  was  a  natural  hiding-place, 
a  tumble-down  fence  with  great  bushes  and  briers.  He 
rode  to  an  opening  and  then  turned  toward  the  chosen 
spot,  but  as  he  turned  he  saw  before  him  a  horse,  saddled 
and  haltered,  head  to  earth,  eating ;  and  at  the  next  breath 
he  saw  the  dismounted  rider  spring  up — Barney. 

"  Yes,  Unc  Squiah,  I  done  got  ahead  of  you  feh  oncet ; 
I  jest  be'n  a-watchin'  of  you,  an'  I  seed  ju  was  a-thinkin' 
dat  dat  good-feh-nothin'  Bahney  gwine  to  make  you  wait. 
Yah  !  yah  !  Now,  Unc  Squiah,  tell  de  troof  !  " 

"  Bahney,  boy,  you  'peahs  to  be  mighty  high  sperrited 
'bout  some'h'm  —  you  does,  feh  true.  Whah  you  git  dat 
hoss,  Bahney  ?  " 

"  I  got  'im  jest  whah  you  got  yo'n,  Unc  Squiah  ;  dah 
now  !  "  and  Bahney  laughed  again. 


d76  OLD  SQUIRE 

Squire  had  also  dismounted  and  was  getting  ready  to 
feed. 

"  Dat  hawsh  you  got,  Bahney,  hit  seem  to  me  dat  I 
done  seed  dat  hoss  befo'e  now." 

"Mebbe  you  did,  Unc  Squiah." 

"  Boy,  how  come  you  git  dis  hoss  ?  " 

"  Don't  shu  fret  shose'f  about  dat,  Unc  Squiah ;  I  got 
'im.  An'  it  gwine  to  take  a  good  man's  two  hund'ed 
dollahs  in  gole  to  git  'im,  too,  Unc  Squiah." 

"  An'  izh  you  gwine  to  sell  'im  to  de  Conf eddicks  ?  " 

"Dat's  jest  what  I  'lows  to  do.  But  I  make  you  a 
good  swap,  Unc  Squiah,  if  you  wants  him." 

Squire  coveted  the  horse,  which  was  a  much  better  one 
than  his  own  —  coveted  him  for  Mahs  Chahley ;  but  he 
shook  his  head  ;  he  had  no  money  to  spare. 

They  made  a  start.  Squire  insisted  on  keeping  out  of 
the  main  roads  ;  for  though  when  alone  he  had  had  no 
fear  in  this  quarter,  now,  with  a  companion  dressed  in 
blue,  he  was  afraid  lest  suspicion  be  aroused ;  moreover, 
one  negro  is  an  innocent  slave  on  some  mission  for  his 
master,  but  two  constitute  an  insurrection. 

In  the  woods  the  progress  was  slower.  Neither  had  a 
definite  intention  beyond  those  of  avoiding  the  Federal 
cavalry,  and  getting  into  the  Confederate  lines.  They 
heard  guns,  but  knew  not  whether  their  own  approach  was 
toward  the  backs  of  Union  troops  or  those  of  Southerners. 

From  time  to  time  Barney  bantered  Squire  for  a  horse 
trade,  but  the  older  man  invariably  answered  that  he 
would  swap  even,  or  not  at  all,  while  the  younger  wanted 
fifty  dollars  in  gold. 


ONE  WAY  TO  SWAP  HORSES  377 

Dusk  was  falling  and  they  were  still  on  the  western 
edge  of  the  mountains,  but  they  had  passed  the  railroad, 
and  were  to  the  south  of  Thoroughfare.  The  night  would 
be  dark  ;  the  autumn  wind  swept  low  clouds  along  the 
range,  obscuring  all  distant  vision  before  the  end  of  day. 
A  place  was  chosen,  and  a  halt  made  for  the  night ;  on 
the  morrow  they  would  go  up  the  mountain  and  see  what 
could  be  seen. 

Barney  seemed  restless;  he  persisted  in  offering  to 
trade  horses,  slowly  reducing  his  demands.  The  old 
negro  began  to  dread  some  deceit ;  from  the  first  he  had 
not  doubted  that  Barney  had  committed  theft,  and  now 
he  believed  that  the  desire  for  exchanging  was  based  upon 
fear  lest  they  ride  into  a  Federal  camp  where  the  horse 
would  be  recognized.  As  for  his  own  mount,  Squire 
proudly  considered  him  the  lawful  prize  of  his  bow  and 
spear. 

The  young  negro  became  sullen.  "Unc  Squiah,  it 
seems  to  me  dat  shu  stannin'  might'ly  in  yo'  own  light. 
You  don't  know  when  you  lucky.  Dat  hoss  he  wuff 
mo'e'n  two  o'  yo'n,  and  dey  ain't  a  man  on  de  top  side  o' 
de  yeahth  dat  I  let  have  'im  like  I  do  you." 

"  Yas,  chile,  dat's  all  true,  an'  I  ain't  a-sputin'  it ;  but 
shu  see  dish  heah  hoss  o'  mine?  I  done  got  shuse  to  'im, 
Bahney,  an'  I  dess  can't  mek  up  my  mine  to  tuhn  'im  awff. 
I  ain't  a-sayin'  dat  shyo'  hoss  ain't  wuff  de  mos',  now  mine 
you,  but  I  dess  say  I  don't  go  back  on  dis  hoss." 

"  Den  'sposin'  I  say  swap  eben,  Unc  Squiah,  what'd  ju 
say  to  dat  ?  Now,  I  ain't  a-sayin'  I  gwine  to  do  it,  but 
what'd  ju  say  ?  " 


378  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Lawd,  chile,  ain't  no  use  to  talk  'bout  w'at  shu  ain't 
a-gwine  to  do.  You  ain't  a-gwine  to  do  it,  'cazhe  you 
know  you  ain't." 

On  the  hard  earth,  covered  by  his  saddle  cloth,  old 
Squire  rested  for  more  than  half  the  night  in  dreamless 
sleep.  Then  he  woke  with  a  start  and  listened.  Near  by 
he  heard  sounds  of  hoofs,  growing  suddenly  louder,  and  in 
a  moment  more  receding,  galloping  away. 

"  Bahney,"  he  called  softly  ;  but  the  wind  in  the  trees 
was  the  only  answer.  He  called  louder.  Then  he  moved, 
and  felt  where  Barney  had  lain.  He  rose  up  and  looked 
all  about,  groping  his  way  in  the  darkness. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

IN  THE  NICK  OF  TIME 

"  Mar.     How  far  off  lie  these  armies  ? 
.*/••>.«.  Within  this  mile  and  half. 

Mar.     Then  shall  we  hear  their  'larum  and  they  ours." 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

WHEN  it  became  fully  evident  that  Barney  had  secretly 
achieved  his  wished -for  horse  trade,  and  had  gone  without 
so  much  as  by  your  leave,  Squire's  fears  permitted  him  no 
longer  to  rest ;  anything  might  be  apprehended  from  the 
man  who  had  betrayed  him,  so  he  gathered  his  effects  and 
led  Barney's  horse  away. 

The  clouds  were  gone ;  from  the  stars  he  learned  that  day 
was  not  far,  and  he  made  toward  the  ridge  of  the  moun- 
tain, carefully  choosing  his  way.  But  present  fear  was 
lessened  by  every  step,  and  before  he  had  made  a  furlong  he 
halted  and  sat  down,  bridle  in  hand,  to  await  the  dawn,  his 
thoughts  bitter  from  loneliness  and  from  dread  of  a  future 
caused  by  Barney's  desertion ;  for  the  younger  negro's  con- 
duct was  now  understood  —  he  had  forcibly  disposed  of  a 
booty  too  dangerous  to  keep  in  these  parts,  where  at  any 
moment  he  might  run  against  Freeman's  company;  and  the 
act  that  had  helped  himself  had  been  done  to  the  peril  of 
him  he  deserted. 

379 


380  OLD  SQUIRE 

When  daylight  came,  Squire  trudged  up  the  mountain 
side,  and  as  the  sun  rose  looked  out  east  and  south  and 
southwest.  The  region  was  in  a  great  degree  familiar. 
In  his  young  manhood  he  had  roamed  these  woods  and 
fields  by  night,  for  slaves  wandered  far  at  times  betwixt 
sun  and  sun  ;  and  in  the  campaigns  of  Lee  and  Pope,  and 
of  Stuart  and  Pleasonton,  he  had  learned  a  little  of  the 
more  distant  country  in  regard  to  the  main  roads  and  the 
villages.  The  smoke  at  the  southwest  where  Stuart  was 
now  crossing  the  Hedgeman  he  knew  was  in  Rappahan- 
nock  County ;  and  the  smoke  nearer  by,  but  a  little  to  the 
left,  he  thought  came  from  Warrenton,  where  were  many 
camps.  And  far  eastward  the  atmosphere  was  a  mingling 
of  dust  and  smoke,  which  the  negro  understood  to  mean 
the  presence  and  the  movement  of  a  mighty  army  —  which 
army  ?  Lee's  or  Meade's  ?  It  was  far  away. 

Near  the  mountain  the  air  was  pure  ;  for  ten  miles  there 
was  neither  dust  nor  smoke,  except  thin  spots  that  indicated 
dwellings  ;  here  and  there  in  this  quarter  the  roads  were 
visible — ^but  for  very  short  spaces,  the  region  hilly  and 
wooded.  Had  it  not  been  for  hills  and  woods  a  watcher 
with  a  glass  of  indefinite  power  might  have  seen  from  this 
height  a  panorama  which  the  governments  of  earth  would 
have  trembled  to  watch,  for  on  this  field  the  Southern 
army  was  moving  once  more  in  a  hope  to  interpose 
between  its  giant  antagonist  and  his  Capital. 

Squire  knew  not  what  to  do,  and  he  sat  down.  He  was 
in  a  good  place  ;  before  he  would  move  he  must  know 
more.  His  fears  of  Freeman  were  so  great  that  at  one 
time  he  had  almost  decided  to  abandon  the  horse  which  he 


IN  THE  NICK  OF  TIME  381 

believed  Barney  had  considered  an  element  of  danger ;  but 
the  thought  had  followed  that  by  night  he  might  ride  even 
this  horse  into  safety  if  he  could  but  know  whither  to 
ride  ;  he  would  wait  here,  if  need  be,  until  night.  So  on 
this  mountain  top  the  slave  remained,  at  each  successive 
moment  striving  from  some  new  indication  thrown  vaguely 
to  this  far  distance  by  the  assembled  powers  of  North  and 
of  South  to  solve  its  meaning  to  himself.  Down  there  was 
Stuart,  and  he  was  coming.  Squire  saw  the  smoke  of  his 
cannon,  but  the  sounds  and  the  smoke  mingled  with  those 
of  the  Northern  artillery,  and  he  could  not  divide  them. 
Over  at  the  southeast  stood  the  infantry  legions  of  Sedg- 
wick,  and  Warren,  and  French,  and  Newton,  and  Slocum  — 
all  unseen  by  the  lone  spy  upon  the  mountain,  while  to 
their  north  rolled  the  visible  smoke  of  their  camps  and  the 
dust  of  their  wagon  trains  hurrying  back  to  Bull  Run  ; 
but  the  dust  and  the  smoke  drifted  without  regard  to  sec- 
tional prejudice,  and  their  political  cause  was  unrevealed. 
In  the  southwest  the  noise  of  cannon  died  away,  and 
Squire  still  held  his  post.  Yet  he  thought  it  prudent  to 
examine  the  ground  near  him  ;  he  tied  his  horse,  and 
sought  a  spot  from  which  he  might  look  more  to  the  west, 
and  now  he  saw,  not  half  a  mile  away,  a  white  flag  waving 
from  an  isolated  perch,  waving  nervously,  according  to 
the  fitful  manner  of  the  signal  folk,  springing  up — jerk- 
ing down  —  right  —  left  —  left,  left  —  right,  right,  left, 
up  —  zigzag,  rapidly  and  incoherently,  lacking  utterly 
the  rhythmical  succession  of  the  drum-major's  conceited 
baton,  jerking  and  fluttering  in  spasms  of  apprehension 
and  warning.  And  Squire  knew  that  they  were  signals 


382  OLD  SQUIRE 

of  warning,  but  of  whom  and  to  whom  the  warning  was 
projected  who  could  know?  Yet,  for  all  his  ignorance, 
was  he  sure  that  the  flags  were  waving  Federal  signals  to 
Federals  to  tell  that  Lee  was  marching.  He  went  back  to 
his  former  position,  and  continued  to  strain  his  eyes  at  the 
landscape  under  the  blazing  sun  ;  and  as  he  gazed  he  still 
saw  the  dust  rolling  northward  and  now  knew  that  its 
extreme  southern  limit  had  moved.  He  took  an  object, 
and  after  a  little  another,  and  then  yet  a  third,  and  then 
he  prayed  to  his  God  for  Mahs  Chahley  and  the  Southern 
cause,  for  it  was  plain  as  day  that  Meade  was  hurrying  his 
long  trains  in  retreat ;  and  he  knew  that  between  the 
mountain  and  those  trains,  and  in  rear  of  the  trains, 
Meade's  divisions  were  seeking  some  strong  position  for 
battle. 

Then,  in  another  hour,  the  atmosphere  toward  Warren- 
ton  became  pure  of  smoke  and  dust ;  and  in  yet  another 
hour  the  dust  was  rising  there  again  ;  and  the  negro 
interpreted  —  the  Federals  had  marched  out,  .and  after  an 
interval  the  Southerners  had  marched  in  ;  and  who  but 
Stuart  ?  Yet  the  negro  held  his  place  ;  he  would  wait 
until  the  rear  of  the  advancing  cavalry  had  passed  ;  then, 
without  fear  of  the  Federals,  he  could  follow  and  find  his 
master  ;  he  would  wait,  if  need  be,  until  night. 

******* 

On  this  day  Stuart  marched  through  Warrenton.  The 
movement  had  begun  on  the  9th  ;  at  James  City  on  the 
10th  there  had  been  a  combat  of  cavalry  ;  at  Culpeper 
and  Brandy  on  the  llth  more  desperate  fighting  in  which 
Armstrong  had  ridden  ever  in  advance,  seeming  to  seek 


IN  THE  NICK  OF  TIME  383 

destruction,  yet  coming  out  unscathed.  On  yesterday,  at 
Jeffersonton,  there  had  been  a  close  but  partial  engage- 
ment, the  Federals  retiring  to  the  north  bank  of  the 
Hedgeman.  And  behind  Stuart,  Lee  at  the  west  was 
endeavouring  to  repeat  the  movement  that  in  the  preced- 
ing year  had  thrown  Pope  back  to  Bull  Run. 

Fitz  Lee  held  the  ground  from  New  Baltimore  to  War- 
renton,  and  from  Warrenton  toward  Auburn.  Stuart 
marched  with  three  brigades  eastward  for  Catlett's  ;  he 
left  Lomax's  brigade  at  Auburn,  and  when  in  sight  of  Cat- 
lett's was  forced  to  halt,  for  the  roads  running  northward 
in  his  front  were  full  of  Federal  infantry  hastening  their 
retreat  —  the  two  corps  commanded  by  Generals  Sedgwick 
and  Sykes.  Though  Stuart  had  been  observed  by  the 
enemy,  whose  flanking  parties  sent  a  few  shots  into  his 
ranks,  he  succeeded  in  withdrawing,  and  at  once  de- 
spatched an  aide  to  General  Lee  at  Warrenton,  advising 
that  Meade's  army  was  in  full  retreat,  and  that  now  was 
the  time  to  strike.  At  Auburn  this  messenger  found  that 
Lomax's  brigade  had  been  forced  to  abandon  that  position 
and  retire  westward  ;  for  on  this  night  the  corps  of  Fed- 
eral infantry  under  Warren  had  halted  at  Auburn,  not 
only  brushing  Lomax  aside,  but  cutting  off  Stuart's  retreat 
in  the  direction  of  Warrenton.  Moreover,  the  Third 
corps,  under  French,  had  already  passed  beyond  Auburn, 
and  was  encamping  at  Greenwich,  so  that  Stuart  found 
himself  enclosed  :  on  the  east  were  Sedgwick  and  Sykes  ; 
on  the  north,  French  ;  on  the  west  and  southwest,  War- 
ren's infantry  and  Gregg's  cavalry  ;  while  on  the  south 
flowed  Cedar  Run.  But  for  his  ordnance  wagons  and 


384  OLD  SQUIRE 

artillery,  Stuart's  predicament  would  not  perhaps  have 
been  felt  as  serious  ;  but  these  he  could  not  think  of 
abandoning.  Throughout  the  night  extraordinary  effort 
was  made  to  prevent  knowledge  of  his  presence  from 
reaching  his  enemies,  and  six  several  attempts  by  single 
soldiers  to  flank  the  Union  lines  and  tell  to  Lee  the 
danger  of  his  lieutenant  all  succeeded. 

Stuart's  aide  had  sent  back  a  messenger  advising  that 
the  road  was  blocked,  and  then  by  a  circuitous  route  had 
reached  General  Lee,  so  that  now  the  situation  had  become 
perilous  to  Warren  ;  it  was  a  complex  case  in  which 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  positions  and  designs  of  the 
various  disjoined  forces  on  either  side  might  throw  success 
to  the  commander  who  should  acquire  that  knowledge 
or  conceive  it  with  sufficient  clearness  to  justify  action. 
Stuart  was  enclosed,  and  Warren  was  enclosed  ;  whoever 
should  strike  first  and  properly,  surely  ought  to  gain  a 
great  success  ;  yet  the  result  proved  a  balance,  and  added 
to  the  fame  of  both  commanders,  but  perhaps  unjustifiably, 
though  surely  no  criticism  can  apply  against  Warren,  while 
adverse  comment  upon  Stuart's  course  would  seem  to  fall 
ulteriorly  upon  Lee  —  for  certainly  that  great  captain 
failed  at  Auburn  to  crush  the  Second  corps. 

At  daylight  Ewell's  infantry  advanced  upon  Warren 
from  the  west,  and  Stuart's  artillery  opened  upon  him 
from  the  east,  surprising  his  men  in  their  bivouacs, 
creating  consternation  at  finding  that  the  road  was  blocked 
to  Catlett's. 

And  Warren  succeeded  in  extricating  his  command 
before  Ewell  could  seriously  engage  it ;  and  Stuart  sue- 


IN  THE  NICK  OF  TIME  385 

ceeded  in  slipping  out  with  his  brigades  and  his  artillery 
before  Warren  could  overwhelm  them  ;  and  in  the  manoeu- 
vres incident  to  these  successes,  there  was  close  fighting,  — 
horsemen  riding  through  hostile  infantry,  solid  regiments 
charging  upon  cannon,  battery  replying  to  battery. 
*****  *  * 

Squire  reached  the  First  Virginia  without  difficulty,  and 
he  soon  found  friends,  one  of  whom  told  him  that  Morgan 
and  his  group  had  been  detailed  to  attend  General  Stuart, 
who  had  marched  eastward.  No  other  information  could 
he  get.  His  long  rest  on  the  mountains  had  left  his  good 
horse  fresh  ;  he  knew  not  when  his  master  would  return 
to  the  regiment ;  he  felt  that  he  must  go  on  and  try  to 
reach  General  Stuart. 

****#** 

At  daylight  on  the  14th  Squire  was  approaching  General 
Stuart's  line.  As  yet  the  negro  had  not  seen  a  Federal, 
his  acute  senses  of  hearing  and  sight,  coupled  with  foxlike 
caution,  enabling  him  to  avoid  their  flanks  in  the  darkness. 
Indeed,  but  for  his  artillery,  which  a  wood  or  a  gully 
might  easily  have  caused  to  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands, 
it  would  have  been  no  difficult  matter  for  General  Stuart 
and  his  two  brigades  to  file  away  into  safety  by  marching 
between  the  corps  of  Warren  at  Auburn  and  that  of 
French  at  Greenwich,  and  it  was  through  this  gap  that 
Squire  made  his  way  at  an  hour  later  than  the  march  of 
any  of  French's  stragglers. 

The  old  man  was  on  a  high  hill  from  which  a  good  vision 
could  be  had  when  the  full  light  of  day  should  come.     In 
his  rear  was  a  wood,  covering  the  crown  of  the  hill ;  in  his 
2c 


386  OLD  SQUIRE 

front,  open  ground,  but  lower,  in  which  depression  the  Con- 
federate cavalry  lay  concealed  in  a  heavy  fog.  Through 
that  fog  he  saw  nothing,  yet  he  heard  —  he  heard  the 
rattle  of  harness,  and  the  movement  of  horses  ;  but  soon 
at  the  south  —  though  he  knew  not  the  south  —  he  saw 
many  fires  spring  up,  and  he  believed  they  were  made  by 
Federals  for  boiling  their  coffee  —  a  luxury  that  the  poor 
rebels  tasted  only  when  they  had  captured  it  from  their 
enemies. 

At  length  the  fog  began  to  lift,  and  then  Squire  heard 
musketry  break  out,  away  at  his  right  ;  it  seemed  a  mile, 
and  far  beyond  the  fires.  And  before  it  had  died  away 
there  came  other  sounds,  more  fearful  and  louder  —  a 
battery  below  him  was  firing  with  great  rapidity.  Still 
he  could  see  no  man  ;  yet  under  that  fogsheet  he  knew  that 
the  combatants  could  see,  could  tell  what  he  knew  not, 
could  distinguish  friend  from  foe.  Again  there  was  thunder 
—  different  —  a  second  unknown  battery  replying,  and 
farther  south  a  crackling  of  small  arms,  and  then  even 
the  mighty  tread  of  horse  reached  his  ears  as  Stuart  threw 
a  regiment  forward  at  the  charge.  But  even  yet  the  ne- 
gro could  only  hear.  Like  a  blind  man  lingering  on  the 
edge  of  battle  whose  sounds  alone  come  to  his  smitten 
brain,  the  slave  stood  and  hearkened,  afraid  to  go  forward 
because  death  was  there ;  yet  could  he  not  go  back, 
because  of  duty. 

But  the  fog  continued  to  rise,  and  with  great  suddenness 
he  knew  where  he  was.  Over  yonder,  scarce  half  a  mile, 
was  the  spot  where  his  Mahs  Chahley  had  found  him  one 
night — that  night  in  '62  when  the  negro  had  guided  Stuart 


IN  THE  NICK  OF  TIME  387 

to  Pope's  headquarters  ;  and  in  a  flash  the  whole  immediate 
district  sprang  into  coherence  by  simple  association,  —  and 
for  one  instant  the  positions  of  the  hostile  forces  upon 
that  night  in  '62  had  well-nigh  betrayed  him,  for  here 
from  the  west  came  Stuart  then  ;  there  at  the  east  were 
the  Federals  then ;  and  he  mounted  his  horse  to  ride  to 
the  rear  of  the  western  battle  ;  but  as  he  mounted  the 
scene  became  clear,  and  he  saw  cavalry  at  the  east,  with 
the  Confederate  flag  ;  and  infantry  at  the  west,  with  the 
Federal  flag  ;  and  he  dashed  his  old  heels  into  his  horse's 
sides  and  rode  headlong  after  Stuart's  men,  now  rapidly 
retiring  southward. 

But  the  rearmost  files  of  the  Confederates  turned,  for 
here  came  thundering  athwart  the  open  a  company  of 
Federal  horsemen  to  retard  the  retreat.  Still  Squire  was 
riding  ;  he  saw  the  Confederates,  but  not  their  enemies 
behind  the  swell  ;  he  saw  only  the  gray  men  halting, 
facing  west,  their  flank  toward  him,  he  urging  on  at  all 
speed  in  the  joyful  hope  that  they  were  awaiting  him. 
But  all  at  once  the  blue  men  came  into  view,  and  not  a 
hundred  yards  from  their  foes ;  and  as  Squire  finds  refuge 
in  the  rear  of  the  Confederates  who  advance  now  to  meet 
shock  with  shock,  they  roll  together  with  one  commingled 
shout  which  tells  of  stern  resolve  and  highest  ardour  each 
for  each  ;  then  blades  and  blades,  and  shot  and  shot,  and 
rider  down,  and  horse  overthrown,  and  all  the  wild  up- 
roar. And  then  upon  the  Federals  thus  struggling  comes 
back  a  second  gray  platoon,  and  in  a  time  that  must  be 
told  in  seconds  the  blue  survivors  are  fleeing  over  the 
field,  leaving  their  dead  and  wounded.  But  so  their  ene- 


388  OLD  SQUIRE 

mies  must  also  flee,  for  in  their  rear  the  bugles  call  them 
to  save  themselves  while  they  may. 

Foremost  of  the  Southerners,  Armstrong  had  ridden  ; 
foremost  of  the  Federals,  Freeman.  And  Armstrong's 
horse  had  been  slain,  and  his  comrades  were  rapidly 
withdrawing,  and  Freeman  had  been  stricken  to  the 
ground,  where  he  lay  in  helpless  peril ;  and  Freeman  saw 
his  own  horse  —  his  favourite  —  dash  up  to  the  spot,  a 
negro  on  his  back,  and  he  knew  this  negro.  He  saw  a 
white  man  leap  up  to  the  saddle,  as  old  Squire  scrambled 
back  to  the  croup  ;  and  then  Freeman,  lying  there  inca- 
pable, saw  his  horse,  carrying  its  double  burden,  gallop 
after  the  fleeing  rebels. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE   FIVE   HUNDRED 

"  Where  lies  the  land  to  which  the  ship  would  go  ? 
Far,  far  ahead,  is  all  the  seamen  know." 

—  CLOUGH. 

THE  manoeuvres  of  the  cavalry  in  the  Bristoe  campaign, 
though  interesting,  were  marked  by  no  incident  seriously 
affecting  Squire's  history  after  he  returned  to  his  master. 
Lee's  army  settled  back  beyond  the  Rapidan,  and  Meade 
resumed  his  former  position  in  Culpeper  County.  At 
the  close  of  November  the  Federal  army  advanced  into 
Orange  County,  and  was  halted  by  Lee's  intrenched 
position  along  Mine  Run  ;  there  was  much  skirmishing, 
but  no  general  battle.  By  the  2d  of  December  Meade 
was  back  in  his  camps,  and  everything  seemed  settled  for 
the  winter,  Lee's  infantry  in  huts  near  Orange  Court- 
House,  his  cavalry  scattered  over  three  counties,  scarcity 
of  provender  demanding  small  camps  widely  separated. 
Old  Squire  foraged  near  and  far. 

In  February  Lieutenant  Morgan  returned  to  his  duty 
with  Pleasonton.  He  had  interested  some  influential 
people  in  the  story  of  West  and  Hawley,  and  he  now  had 
great  hope  of  seeing  the  one  exchanged  for  the  other, 
General  Pleasonton  himself  having  recommended  it ;  as 

389 


390  OLD  SQUIRE 

for  the  Confederates,  they  were  always  willing  to  exchange. 
Yet  though  Junior  held  desultory  correspondence  with 
Jennie,  he  had  not  written  her  concerning  his  efforts  for 
Usher's  release,  fearing  to  excite  undue  hope. 

More  than  four  months  had  gone  by  since  any  of  our 
friends  on  either  side  had  learned  aught  of  the  doings  of 
those  upon  the  opposite  side  ;  neither  Sergeant  Morgan 
nor  Armstrong,  in  any  skirmish,  —  and  not  even  Squire 
with  all  his  foraging,  —  had  met  with  one  small  incident 
relating  to  Junior,  to  Lacy,  to  Freeman,  or  any  of  Free- 
man's company.  Yet  but  few  miles  divided  these  parties, 
and  the  existing  oblivion  must  cease. 

The  day  on  which  Lieutenant  Morgan  returned  to  duty 
marked  also  the  return  of  an  old  friend.  Dahlgren,  pro- 
moted for  gallantry  three  grades  at  a  stride,  had  been 
disabled  by  wounds  since  July,  and  indeed  was  still  dis- 
abled, wearing  a  false  leg,  and  even  carrying  crutches  at 
his  saddle,  his  chivalrous  courage  supplying  all  physical 
lack. 

In  whose  brain 1  was  evolved  the  wonderful  but  imper- 
fect scheme  which  Colonel  Dahlgren  was  first  to  unfold 
to  Morgan,  Junior  did  not  know,  but  he  at  once  eagerly 
sought  to  become  an  actor  in  it,  responding  to  Dahlgren's 
enthusiasm  with  ardour. 

On  the  morning  of  February  28,  1864,  Morgan  was 
alone  in  Dahlgren's  tent,  busy  with  preparation,  the  colo- 
nel having  been  called  outside  by  some  messenger  sent 
from  the  provost-marshal.  Morgan  was  hoping  that  a 

1  General  Kilpatrick's,  according  to  War  Records,  Vol.  XXXIII,  pp. 
172,  173. 


THE  FIVE  HUNDRED  391 

guide  had  been  sent  to  lead  Dahlgren's  five  hundred  who 
were  to  take  the  advance. 

"  Do  you  know  the  country  below  ?  "  The  voice  was 
Dahlgren's,  easily  heard  by  Morgan. 

"  No,  Colonel ;  I  was  to  bring  you  this  negro,  and  re- 
turn to  Mr.  Babcock.  That  is  all  I  know." 

"  The  negro  is  sent  to  me  ?  "  .  .  .  Dahlgren  again. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Dismount,  sir,  and  come  in  here." 

Soon  Dahlgren  came  in,  followed  by  a  negro,  a  young 
man,  brown  skinned,  slender,  seemingly  at  ease  with  army 
people.  The  negro  looked  fixedly  at  Morgan  for  an 
instant  —  then  turned  his  eyes  away. 

Dahlgren  handed  a  sheet  of  paper  to  Morgan,  who  read 
as  follows  :  — 

"DEAR  COLONEL:  At  the  last  moment  I  have  found  the 
man  you  want,  well  acquainted  with  the  James  River  from 
Richmond  up.  I  send  him  to  you  mounted  on  my  own  private 
horse.  You  will  have  to  furnish  him  a  horse.  Question  him 
for  five  minutes,  and  you  will  find  him  the  very  man  you 
want. 

"  Respectfully  and  truly  yours, 

"  JOHN  C.  BABCOCK. 

"  He  crossed  at  Rapidan  last  night,  and  has  late  informa- 
tion." 1 

Meanwhile,  Dahlgren  was  questioning  the  negro. 
"  Where  do  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  I  be'n  down  to  Goochlan',  sah,  an'  I  jest  got  back,"  was 
the  reply,  the  man's  eyes  shifting  uneasily  in  his  head, 
i  War  Records,  Vol.  XXXIII,  p.  221. 


392  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  You  have  been  with  us  before  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sah,  I  be'n  with  the  cavalry,  an'  I  jest  went 
back  to  see  my  mammy." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

..."  Bahney,  sah."  The  negro  was  thinking  ;  he  had 
seen  Dahlgren  before,  and  Morgan  also  ;  he  had  no  wish 
to  be  recognized ;  he  knew,  however,  that  Freeman  had 
been  wounded  and  was  now  absent  from  his  command, 
and  he  tried  to  take  courage.  Possibly  he  had  thought 
of  concealing  his  name,  but  had  thought  too  late,  for  he 
had  given  it  even  before  seeing  Babcock  at  the  provost- 
marshal's. 

"  Who  can  vouch  for  you  ?  " 

"  De  gentleman  dat  I  waited  awn  is  done  got  huht, 
sah,  an'  he  ain't  got  back,  an'  I  don't  know  who  to  say, 
sah." 

"  Who  is  he  ?  " 

"Cap'm  Bob  Freeman,  sah." 

"  And  no  one  else  knows  you  ?  " 

The  negro  would  not  say  that  he  had  ever  seen 
Morgan  ;  he  drew  a  crumpled  note  from  his  pocket,  and 
handed  it  to  Dahlgren,  who  read  that  the  bearer  had  suc- 
cessfully guided  the  writer,  after  escaping  from  Libby 
Prison,  through  the  enemy's  country  and  safely  into  the 
Union  lines.1 

The  testimony  seemed  very  favourable.  Dahlgren 
dismissed  the  soldier,  who  rode  away,  leading  Babcock's 
horse. 

1  Boudrye's  "  Fifth  New  York  Cavalry,"  p.  99  ;  Major  Merritt's  nar- 
rative. 


THE   FIVE  HUNDRED  393 

"  Now,  Barney,  I've  got  a  thousand  dollars,  and  I  know 
where  there  are  trees,  and  ropes  are  handy.  Are  you 
willing  to  risk  it  ?  "  Dahlgren's  voice  was  stern,  his  tones 
seriously  uniform. 

"I  don't  know  what  shu  want  me  to  do,  sah,"  said 
Barney. 

"This  paper  says  you  know  the  James  River  all  the 
way  from  Richmond  up.  Tell  me  what  you  know  about 
it." 

"  I  knows  de  Jim  Riveh,  sah,  in  Goochlan'  ;  I  be'n 
a-fishin'  all  along  dah  eveh  sence  I  knowed  how  to  bait  a 
hook,  sah,"  replied  the  negro  with  assurance. 

"  Well,  what  I  want  you  to  do  is  to  ride  with  me  and  a 
few  more  men,  and  show  me  the  way  to  get  across  the 
James.  Can  you  do  that  ?  " 

"  Jest  a  few  men,  Co'nel  ?     In  a  ferry-boat  ?  " 

"  No,  we'll  be  too  big  a  crowd  to  risk  a  ferry.  We 
must  have  a  ford." 

"  Yes,  sah,  we  can  find  a  fohd,"  said  Barney,  and  then 
added,  "if  de  riveh  ain't  up." 

"  Where  would  you  find  a  ford  ?  " 

"  Dey's  a  good  un,  Co'nel,  at  Columbia  Mills,  but  dat's 
up  de  riveh  in  Fluvanna.  Den  dey's  anotheh  down  by 
Doveh." 

"  Will  you  take  the  risk  of  guiding  me  and  my  men 
across  the  James  River  for  a  thousand  dollars  ?  "  de- 
manded the  colonel. 

"  Yes,  sah  ;  but  I  be  mighty  feahed  dat  I  git  cotch." 

"  We'll  be  strong  enough  to  protect  you.  Do  you  know 
the  roads  from  Frederick's  Hall  to  the  James  ?  " 


394  OLD  SQUIRE 

"Yes,  sah." 

"  Very  well ;  now  if  you  want  to  make  that  thousand, 
I'm  going  to  take  you  ;  but  I  want  to  tell  you  plainly,  my 
man,  that  if  you  don't  expect  to  guide  me  right,  you'd  bet- 
ter let  some  other  man  earn  that  money.  Understand  me? 
If  you  deceive  me,  you'd  better  never  have  been  born." 

"  Don't  shu  fret  about  dat,  sah.     I'll   take  you  right 
whah  you  want  to  go,  if  it's  anywhah  in  Goochlan'." 
*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

Old  Squire  had  foraged  far.  As  night  overtook  him  he 
found  shelter  in  a  black  brother's  cabin  near  Good  Hope 
Church  in  Spottsylvania  County.  He  had  bought  corn, 
—  only  a  bushel  or  so,  but  a  little  addition  to  each  feed 
would  eke  out  the  forage  ration  handsomely,  —  and  had 
bought  bread  also,  and  other  food,  and  he  would  have 
nothing  to  do  on  the  morrow  except  to  get  back  to  Mahs 
Chahley,  whom  he  had  left  in  camp  some  fifteen  miles 
away.  At  daylight  Squire  bade  his  kind  host  farewell 
and  started  on  his  return  ;  but  he  had  not  got  across  the 
road  to  Frederick's  Hall  when  he  heard  shouts,  "  Halt  ! 
halt !  "  and  looking  northward  saw  a  squad  of  horsemen, 
and  beyond  them  the  road  full  of  coming  cavalry.  He 
had  no  fears  ;  he  halted  at  once,  little  dreaming  that  he 
had  been  halted  by  a  force  of  Federals. 

"  Hello,  old  man  !  Where  you  belong  ?  "  shouted  the 
foremost  of  the  group,  and  now  the  negro  saw  that  this 
man  was  in  blue. 

"  I  b'longs  to  Mahs  Chahley,  sah,"  said  Squire,  uneasy. 

The  advance  guard  had  paused  ;  the  head  of  the  column 
was  not  two  hundred  yards  away. 


THE  FIVE   HUNDRED  395 

"  Hell  you  say  !  Where  ?  What's  that  you  got  ? 
Whose  mule  is  that  ? "  but  replies  surely  were  not 
expected,  for  the  man  continued  :  "  Dickson,  halt  here, 
and  turn  over  this  man  to  the  colonel.  Forward  !  " 

And  in  less  time  than  Squire  would  have  needed  for 
telling  it,  he  was  in  the  presence  of  three  men  whom  he 
knew  —  three  men  riding  at  the  head  of  the  column. 

Dickson  saluted  — "  Ordered  to  turn  him  over, 
Colonel,"  —  saluted  again,  and  spurred  on. 

Meanwhile,  but  one  man  had  paused,  Dahlgren  himself, 
who  reined  his  horse  to  the  roadside  that  the  troops  might 


There  had  been  many  exclamations  of  surprise  or  gayety, 
no  doubt  from  amusement  at  the  negro's  peculiar  appear- 
ance, seated  on  his  bag  of  corn,  with  three  or  four  fat 
haversacks  dangling  on  either  side  of  the  tough  mule 
which  he  had  cheerfully  accepted  from  Mahs  Chahley  in 
exchange  for  Freeman's  good  horse.  And  in  these  utter- 
ances the  cry  of  Junior  Morgan  and  that  of  Barney  had 
passed  unnoticed  by  the  troopers.  Yes,  both  had  cried 
out,  and  had  ridden  on  without  pause,  each  repressing  his 
emotion  alike,  but  from  far  different  impulses, —  the  one 
concerned  for  Squire's  safety  ;  the  other,  doubtless,  for 
his  own. 

"  Tell  me  what  you  are  doing  here,  and  all  about  your- 
self, sir.  " 

The  negro's  alarm  was  extreme  ;  moreover,  it  was  evi- 
dent. He  knew  Dahlgren  —  knew  him  in  spite  of  the 
crutches.  But  he  knew  not  how  this  great  soldier  had 
enjoyed  and  laughed  over  Junior's  revelations — how  he 


396  OLD  SQUIRE 

iad  declared  that  Squire  was  a  man  after  his  own  heart, 
and  the  rest  of  it.  Yet,  though  Squire  feared  this  officer 
whom  he  had  cheated  in  a  small  game  of  war,  his  greatest 
fear  was  not  for  himself,  but  for  Mahs  Chahley  and  his 
friends.  This  force  of  Federal  cavalry — how  strong  he 
could  not  know — had  passed  through  to  Lee's  rear  ;  had 
passed  between  Hampton  and  Fitz  Lee.  What  was  the 
purpose  of  this  advance  ?  The  idea  that  Richmond  was 
in  danger  could  not  occur  to  Squire  ;  his  thought  reached 
not  to  such  absurdly  high  emprise.  He  knew  nothing  of 
the  fact  that  at  this  moment  Kilpatrick's  division,  with 
artillery,  was  also  approaching  the  Capital.  No,  his 
master  was  in  danger  ;  this  cavalry  was  in  Stuart's  rear 
for  the  purpose  of  surprise  and  attack,  and  he  must 
defend  his  master,  lying,  he  thought,  unguarded  in  camp. 
The  truth  is  that  Armstrong  was  at  this  moment  facing 
the  enemy  near  Charlottesville,  where  Ouster's  brigade 
was  making  a  diversion  in  favour  of  Kilpatrick's  Rich- 
mond movement.  Truth  is,  that  Dahlgren  cared  nothing 
for  Stuart  or  Fitz  Lee,  except  to  learn  that  they  were 
being  enticed  away  from  his  own  line  of  march. 

"  Yassah,  I  b'longs  to  Mahs  Chahley,  w'at's  gawn  off  wid 
dem  yotheh  calvry,"  answered  Squire ;  he  was  temporiz- 
ing—  and  somehow  Dahlgren's  hopes  caught  the  answer 
as  acceptable.  Did  not  "  gone  off  with  the  other  cavalry  " 
mean  that  Stuart  was  engaged  by  Custer  ? 

"  Fitz  Lee  or  Hampton  ?     Speak  quick  !  " 

"  Mahs  Fitz  Lee,  sah." 

So  far,  well  indeed.     "  When  did  they  leave  camp  ?  " 

"  Yistiddy,  sah,"  —  a  lie  and  a  truth. 


THE  FIVE  HUNDRED  397 

"  Aha  !     Charlottesville  or  Orange  ?  " 

A  stumper,  but  Squire  dodged.  "Bofe,  sah."  He 
fancied  he  saw  a  smile,  and  was  encouraged. 

"  Throw  down  that  heavy  bag,"  commanded  the  officer ; 
but,  as  Squire  started  to  obey,  added,  "  What's  in  it  ?  " 

"Cawn,  Mahsta." 

"Well,  never  mind,  keep  it.  You  come  with  me; 
we'll  get  rid  of  it  soon  enough,"  and  Dahlgren  pushed 
on  to  overtake  the  head  of  his  column,  Squire  following. 

Possibly  two  minutes  had  been  lost  in  doing  what  has 
taken  so  long  to  tell.  The  questions  had  been  fired  at  the 
negro  like  pistol-shots,  and  the  answers  had  been  prompt. 
Not  half  of  the  column  had  passed  ;  yet  it  required  ten 
minutes  for  the  colonel  to  regain  his  place,  long  enough 
for  three  men  —  Junior,  Squire,  Barney  —  each  to  de- 
liberate upon  his  own  proper  course. 

First :  Morgan  decided  quickly  to  tell  Dahlgren  that 
this  negro  was  Squire.  He  would  do  that  for  the  old 
man's  protection.  Dahlgren  would  allow  Morgan  to 
defend  him.  Of  course,  he  could  not  expect  Dahlgren  to 
dismiss  this  slave — noted  for  his  loyalty  to  Confederates. 

Second  :  Squire  determined  to  do  nothing,  and  watch 
his  chances.  He  would  see  what  his  acquaintances  would 
do.  So  long  as  this  body  of  troops  leaned  away  from 
Orange,  well  and  good  ;  if  it  should  change  direction  and 
ride  toward  his  friends,  he  must  get  away.  He  doubted 
Barney,  in  regard  to  his  own  person ;  but  he  had  all 
confidence  in  his  second  Mahs  Dan.  And  even  though 
Barney  should  endeavour  to  harm  him,  he  felt  that  with 
Junior  on  his  side  all  would  be  well. 


398  OLD  SQUIRE 

Third  :  Barney  must  have  felt  himself  utterly  helpless. 
What  could  he  hope  for  ?  Would  Squire  betray  him  in 
regard  to  the  theft  of  Freeman's  horse  ?  Would  Squire 
divulge  his  desertion  at  Gettysburg?  his  assisting  Ser- 
geant Morgan's  escape  near  Boonsboro  ?  If  Squire  should 
betray  him,  he  was  lost.  The  morning  was  cold,  but  was 
not  Barney's  face  glistening  with  sweat  ?  He  was  at  the 
mercy  of  the  man  he  had  deserted  —  could  he  hope  that 
Squire  would  be  merciful?  .  .  .  yes,  and  there  was  room 
for  one  other  hope  —  the  hope  that  Dahlgren,  still  toward 
the  rear,  would  dismiss  the  old  negro  ;  but  this  hope  was 
gone,  for  now  the  colonel  reached  his  place,  and  Squire 
was  just  behind  him. 

Dahlgren  called  a  halt  and  ordered  the  men  to  feed. 

"  Morgan,  see  to  it,  please,  that  this  negro's  burden  of 
corn  is  relieved.  I  want  to  keep  him  awhile  ;  at  least 
until  we  pass  the  railroad,  and  I'm  afraid  his  mule  won't 
keep  up.  Seems  to  me  I've  seen  the  old  chap  somewhere." 

"  Colonel,  I  want  to  tell  you  something.  That  old  man 
is  none  other  than  Squire." 

Dahlgren  raised  his  hand  a  little  way,  and  let  it  fall. 

"  And  more,"  said  Morgan,  who  had  now  remembered 
that  Squire  had  once  spoken  of  a  Barney  —  a  follower  of 
some  one  in  Freeman's  camp  near  Aldie,  "  I  think  Squire 
knows  Barney." 

"  What !  Then  keep  them  apart.  Don't  let  them 
speak  one  word  to  each  other." 

"  All  right,  sir.  But  you  can  hold  me  responsible  for 
Squire  ;  if  he  will  but  give  me  his  word,  you  may  feel 
easy  on  his  account.  He  is  an  open  enemy,  so  to  speak ; 


THE  FIVE  HUNDRED  399 

but  as  for  Barney,  I  am  wondering  why  he  doesn't  show 
that  he  recognizes  Squire." 

"  Very  well,  watch  them.  Find  out  from  Squire  what 
he  knows  about  the  other  negro." 

When  Junior  approached  him,  the  old  man,  having  fed 
his  mule  with  a  small  quantity  of  corn  allowed  him  from 
his  own  bag,  was  about  to  get  his  breakfast  out  of  one 
of  his  many  haversacks.  "  Uncle  Squire,  you  drop  from 
the  clouds  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  Mahs  Dan,  but  I  sho'  is  proud  to  meet  up 
wid  ju  oncet  mo'e ;  an'  de  yotheh  Mahs  Dan,  he  be'n 
talk  a  heap  'bout  shu,  sah.  Whah  izh  you  all  a-gwine  to, 
Mahs  Dan?" 

The  simple  question  forced  a  smile.  "  Ask  the  colonel, 
Uncle  Squire.  Don't  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  I  be'n  seed  him  befo'e  now,"  and  the  old 
man  laughed,  but  somewhat  uneasily. 

"Yes,  but  you  have  no  cause  to  fear.  I've  told  him 
about  you  long  before  to-day,  and  he  thinks  you're  all 
right.  And  though  he  will  not  let  you  leave  us,  he  has 
given  you  into  my  charge." 

"  Yassah,  I  sho'  is  mighty  proud  to  heah  dat,  Mahs 
Dan.  Izh  you  brung  de  ginnle,  sah  ?  " 

Again  Morgan  smiled.  "  Do  you  know  who  that  negro 
is  yonder,  Squire  ?  " 

"  Yassah,  cou'se  I  knows  Bahney." 

"  But  he  doesn't  seem  to  know  you" 

"  Yassah,  me  an'  him  dess  had  a  leetle  fallin'-out,  sah, 
an'  I  see  he  ain't  a-doin'  nothin'  but  a-putt'n'  on  lak  a 
fool  niggeh  do." 


400  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  What  sort  of  a  man  is  he  ?  " 

"Mahs  Dan,  I  ain't  know  yit  dess  w'at  kin'  o'  man 
Bahney  ain't!  I  ain't  be'n  wid  him  now  so  long  dat  he 
mought  be  done  got  wuss'n  he  wuz." 

More  conversation  followed,  concerning  old  times  at 
West's. 

"Mahs  Dan,  I  ain't  got  my  mine  much  sot  on  yo' 
gwine  about  dis  a-way.  You  don't  look  strong  yit." 

"  Well,  Uncle  Squire,  you're  right,  or  almost  so  ;  I'm 
not  as  strong  as  I  once  was ;  but  I  get  better  all  the  time. 
The  doctor  tells  me  I  shall  always  hold  myself  a  little 
bent,"  for  Junior  supposed  that  the  negro  had  observed 
a  very  peculiar  posture  which  was  natural  when  at  rest  — 
a  leaning  a  little  forward,  as  well  as  a  little  to  the  left 
side.  "  When  did  you  see  my  brother  last  ?  Was  he  well  ?  " 

"  I  seed  'im  las'  week,  sah,  an'  he  hoi'  he'se'f  up  mighty 
well,  Mahs  Dan."  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Squire  had  seen 
the  sergeant  within  two  days. 

"  And  this  Barney  —  when  did  you  see  him  last  ?  " 

"  Mahs  Dan,  you  know  dat  day  w'en  we  all  broke  up 
at  Mahs  Tom's,  an'  you  went  one  way  an'  I  went  de 
yotheh  way  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  ain't  laid  my  eyes  on  dat  niggeh  sence  dat  ve'y  day. 
He  come  along  wi'  me  a  piece  o'  de  way,  an'  he  say  he 
gwine  to  see  he  mammy  one  mo'e  time,  an'  I  ain't  seed 
'im  no  mo'e  tell  back  yandeh  dess  aw'ile  ago." 

"  Where  was  his  mother  ?  " 

"  He  tell  me,  Mahs  Dan,  dat  she  live  down  in  Gooch- 
lan'  some'h's." 


THE  FIVE  HUNDRED  401 

"  Well,  Squire,  can  I  depend  on  you  ?  " 

The  old  man  hesitated  ;  he  knew  not  the  scope  of  the 
demand. 

Morgan  read  his  reluctance ;  he  believed  that  the 
negro  had  fears  of  committing  himself  against  his 
friends.  Squire's  evident  anxiety  in  regard  to  the  march 
had  betrayed  his  thought. 

"  Uncle  Squire,  if  I  will  give  you  my  word  that  we  are 
not  going  against  your  people,  will  you  stand  by  me? 
You  say  that  I  don't  look  strong  ;  and  I'd  like  to  have 
you  in  reach  if  anything  happens  to  me."  Morgan  really 
felt  no  weakness  as  yet,  but  he  knew  how  to  get  the  old 
man. 

"You  not  a-gwine  to  tuhn  off  an'  go  up  de  country,  sah?" 

"  No,  not  a  foot.  If  Stuart  will  let  us  alone,  that's  all 
we  ask.  And  I'll  tell  you  another  thing.  The  colonel 
wants  to  keep  you,  at  least  for  a  while  ;  but  if  you  prom- 
ise to  stay  by  me,  he'll  take  your  word  —  and  then  I'll 
see  that  you  are  not  troubled  with  a  guard." 

"  Cou'se,  Mahs  Dan,  I  gwine  to  stan'  by  you,  sah,  an' 
I  do  all  I  kin  to  he'p  you,  sah  ;  'caze  de  good  book  hit 
say  eve'ybody  mus'  stan'  togeatheh  in  de  time  o'  trouble, 
Mahs  Dan." 

"Well,  then,  it's  a  bargain,  and  I  want  to  ask  you 
now  just  one  thing.  Don't  speak  to  Barney  unless  he 
speaks  to  you  first." 

"  Dat  don't  huht  my  feelin's,  Mahs  Dan.  I  dess  be'n 
a-lookin'  at  dat  boy,  an'  I  be'n  a-sayin'  to  myse'f  dat  ef 
you  too  proud  to  speak  to  po'  Confeddick  niggeh,  you 
kin  dess  up  an'  go  to  de  debble." 

2D 


402  OLD  SQUIRE 

Again  they  were  marching,  and  rapidly.  Even  ii 
Squire  had  not  had  perfect  confidence  in  Junior's  assur- 
ance that  no  evil  was  intended  against  Stuart's  people, 
when  the  North  Anna  had  been  put  behind  them  all  fears 
were  gone  ;  and  he  now  supposed  that  these  troopers  were 
merely  on  a  raid  against  some  railroad,  and  when  he 
heard  the  whistle  of  a  locomotive,  he  felt  that  the 
mystery  was  solved. 

A  mile  or  two  below  Frederick's  Hall,  Dahlgren's 
command  tore  up  track,  cut  telegraph  wires,  captured 
the  court-martial  of  A.  P.  Hill's  corps,  and  then 
pushed  on  south. 

And  to  Squire  the  purpose  of  the  movement  was  now 
made  clear,  even  from  the  speech  of  the  troopers  —  the 
column  was  marching  on  Richmond  ! 

In  darkness,  under  the  falling  rain  and  snow,  Dahl- 
gren  urged  on.  The  roads,  bad  enough  before,  became 
streams  of  water  ;  the  column  of  five  hundred  stretched 
out  for  miles  ;  every  prisoner  who  had  the  desire,  escaped 
—  and  it  may  be  questioned  whether  the  romantic  leader, 
from  the  moment  when  black  night  fell  upon  him  with 
storm,  had  any  further  hope.  His  own  memoranda  con- 
tained the  item  that  his  command  must  be  in  position 
south  of  the  city  at  ten  o'clock  of  the  following  day  ; 
yet  the  column  was  floundering  along  quagmires  of  roads, 
in  Egyptian  darkness  —  a  straggling,  broken-down  hand- 
ful of  men,  led  by  an  uncertain  guide,  with  a  great  river 
to  cross  if  possible,  and  yet  forty  miles  !  Surely  his 
stout  heart  must  have  failed  even  then  of  hope.  Yet  he 
kept  on. 


404  OLD  SQUIRE 

Before  midnight  the  South  Anna  was  crossed.  At  two 
o'clock,  the  rain  showing  no  abatement,  Dahlgren  felt 
forced  to  halt ;  the  column  was  no  longer  a  column  ; 
his  men  must  be  allowed  to  close  up. 

Ever  since  crossing  the  railroad,  old  Squire's  practical 
mind  had  regarded  the  march  as  folly ;  he  expected 
every  man  to  be  killed  or  taken.  The  negro  had  heard 
loud  boasts  from  the  men  :  they  would  take  Richmond  ; 
some  of  them  said  they  would  destroy  it,  laughing  up- 
roariously ;  the  prisoners  in  Belle  Isle  should  be  freed  ; 
Jeff  Davis  and  everybody  else  should  be  hanged. 
Occasionally  one  would  strike  up  the  old  tune  to  the  new 
words,  "  We'll  hang  Jeff  Davis  to  a  sour  apple  tree  !  " 
and  perhaps  there  were  some  green  recruits  who  believed 
they  stood  a  chance  of  seeing  the  execution  of  the  Con- 
federate President ;  but  all  this  had  been  at  the  first, 
before  the  dark  night  and  the  rain  and  the  mud  and  the 
groping ;  now  there  was  no  cheer,  nothing  but  despon- 
dency and  weariness. 

Yet  the  morning  brought  the  renewal  of  hope,  at 
least  to  the  men,  for  off  leftward  could  be  heard  the 
sounds  of  cannon  ;  was  not  Kilpatrick  clearing  the  way 
into  Richmond  ? 

But  Dahlgren?  Whatever  he  may  have  felt,  he  still 
acted  as  though  he  were  marching  on  to  success. 
Whether  by  accident  or  design,  the  road  that  Barney  had 
taken  in  the  dark  night,  was  not  the  road  to  the  good  ford 
at  Columbia,  and  Dahlgren  ordered  him  to  lead  to  the 
nearest  place  where  the  river  could  be  crossed. 

The  column  approached  Dover  Mills  at  ten  o'clock,  the 


THE  FIVE  HUNDRED  405 

moment  when  it  should  have  appeared  south  of  the  city  — 
a  position  not  possible  now  to  reach  in  safety,  give  what 
time  you  may. 

Dahlgren  soon  learned  that  at  Dover  Mills,  or  any- 
where near  by,  no  crossing  of  the  James  was  practicable 
except  by  boats,  and  he  turned  upon  his  guide  and 
accused  him  of  treachery. 

"  You  declared  to  me  that  you  could  cross  here.  What 
have  you  to  say  for  yourself  ?  " 

"  Co'nel,  I  swaih  to  God  dat  I  be'n  acrawst  sheah  befo'e 
now,  sah  ;  I  be'n  waded  acrawst  sheah,  and  up  higheh, 
and  down  loweh,  an'  I  ain't  give  it  up  yet,  sah.  We  can 
go  on  down  dis  side,  sah,  and  I  know  I  can  find  a  place  to 
git  acrawst." 

"  Then  lead  on,  and  I'll  swear  to  you  that  if  you  do  not 
speedily  guide  me  to  a  ford,  I'll  hang  you  and  leave  your 
carcass  for  the  birds  to  pick." 

Barney  led  on,  down  the  James.  Captain  Mitchell  was 
commanded  to  take  a  hundred  men  and  follow  the  tow-path 
of  the  canal,  convoying  the  ambulances,  the  prisoners,  and 
the  crowds  of  slaves  who  sought  freedom  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  force. 

Dahlgren's  words  to  Barney  had  reached  Squire's  ears  ; 
they  had  been  heard  by  many.  Morgan  beckoned  to 
Squire  to  come  nearer. 

"  Colonel,"  said  the  lieutenant,  "  it  seems  that  Barney 
refuses  to  recognize  Squire." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  this  river,  old  man  ?  "  asked 
Dahlgren,  oblivious  for  the  moment  to  everything  but  the 
necessity  for  a  ford. 


406  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Mahsta,  I  don't  know  noth'n',  sah  ;  I  ain't  nuvveh 
be'n  heah  befo'e." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  that  man  ?  "  pointing  to  the 
guide,  now  some  yards  at  the  front. 

Squire  feared  that  Barney  was  in  peril,  yet  his  fears 
were  not  commensurate  with  the  reality  of  the  danger. 
The  old  negro  had  heard  too  many  unexecuted  threats  to 
allow  him  to  give  complete  faith  in  this  terrible  menace  ; 
yet  he  feared,  for  there  was  in  Dahlgren's  voice  and 
feature  and  manner  a  dreadful  compound  of  resolution. 
And  Squire  had  no  hope  of  a  ford  ;  as  he  had  glanced 
around  his  eyes  had  fallen  upon  a  sail  vessel  coming 
down.1  The  broad  river  at  the  right,  in  his  opinion,  was 
surely  unfordable.  The  old  man  answered,  his  voice 
trembling,  "I  dess  knows  dat  he  use  to  cook  feh  Cap'm 
Freeman,  sah." 

"Do  you  know  where  he  belongs?  Where  is  his 
home?" 

"Yassah  —  leastways  I  knows  dat  he  alluz  said  'at  he 
come  f'om  GoochlanV 

The  answer  was  favourable  ;  Dahlgren  rode  on. 

But  soon  the  thing  that  Squire  had  seen  came  into  view 
of  all,  and  it  destroyed  the  smallest  lingering  hope. 

"Halt!"  cried  Dahlgren. 

Every  eye  was  upon  the  vessel,  and  the  thought  of 
every  man  was  the  same  thought  :  that  boat  was  going  to 
Richmond,  and  it  drew  too  much  water  to  allow  the  belief 
that  there  was  a  ford  anywhere  below. 

The  guide's  face  was  averted.  Possibly  it  will  never  be 
1  Major  Merritt's  narrative. 


THE  FIVE   HUNDRED  407 

known  whether  Barney  himself  had  been  deceived  —  pos- 
sibly it  will  never  be  known  whether  Dahlgren's  act  was 
punishment  for  betrayal,  or  for  incompetency  whose  result 
was  no  less  disastrous. 

Barney's  fear  was  evident ;  though  his  face  was  unseen 
by  the  front  files,  the  fact  that  he  held  himself  rigid  was 
almost  confession. 

What  Dahlgren's  mind,  Squire's  mind,  Barney's  mind, 
underwent,  who  shall  say  ? 

Only  the  deed  can  be  told  ;  the  fear,  the  pity,  the 
horror,  all  these  must  forever  linger  in  the  hearts  of  those 
who  saw,  those  who  thereafter  shunned  the  recollection. 

Dahlgren  pointed  to  the  guide.  He  said  a  few  words 
to  a  sergeant :  "  Take  four  men.  Hang  that  negro.  Be 
sure  you  make  an  end  of  it !  " 

Then  he  commanded  the  march  ;  the  column  moved  on 
...  no  longer  following  Barney  .   .   .  and  as  they  moved 
the  voice  of  entreaty  was  heard  behind  them  .  .  . 
******* 

At  a  later  hour,  Captain  Mitchell,  rejoining  the  column, 
reported  that  he  had  found  the  guide's  body  hanging  by 
the  roadside,  and  had  buried  it. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

WHERE   GLORY  LED 

"The  toil  o'  the  w»r 

A  pain  that  only  seems  to  seek  out  danger 
I*  the  name  of  fame  and  honour,  which  dies  i'  the  search, 
And  hath  as  oft  a  slanderous  epitaph 

As  record  of  fair  fact." 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

AT  three  o'clock  Dahlgren  halted  his  column  on  the 
Westhain  plank  road  within  view  of  the  Richmond  in- 
trenchments  and  made  preparation  to  attack  the  Con- 
federate Capital  with  his  five  hundred  men.  The  crowds 
of  negro  refugees  were  sent  off  toward  the  north,  with 
a  prudence  that  seems  to  reveal  Dahlgren's  hopelessness 
of  success  in  his  present  attack ;  as  for  his  officers,  they 
obeyed  his  commands. 

Squire  now  had  a  good  rest.  He  was  gloomy,  but  he 
knew  how  to  rest.  He  had  already  begged  Morgan  to 
take  measures  for  his  own  safety,  begged  even  while  he 
knew  that  his  advice  would  be  scorned ;  yet  the  lieu- 
tenant was  far  from  believing  the  negro's  opinion  un- 
warranted, and  he  would  go  forward  without  hope. 

"You  are  going  to  wait  for  me,  Uncle  Squire?" 

408 


WHERE  GLORY  LED  409 

"  Oh,  yassah  ;  you  gwine  to  fine  me  right  sheah,  sah  — 
leastways  ef  you  gits  back." 

With  a  line  of  skirmishers  right  and  left,  the  column 
moved  forward  on  the  road,  and  soon  disappeared  in  the 
dusk.  Squire  was  not  alone ;  there  were  white  men  and 
black  men  lingering  here  in  the  rear  to  await  the  result, 
and  he  heard  their  speech,  and  not  one  expressed  hope ; 
the  only  spoken  opinion  was  that  Dahlgren  was  but 
losing  time  that  should  be  used  in  retreating.  The  old 
negro's  head  was  greatly  muddled.  In  regard  to  himself 
had  he  one  intention  beyond  that  of  waiting  ?  one  pur- 
pose that  was  not  merely  involuntary  ?  Without  the  will 
or  even  the  seeming  need  for  thought,  there  must  have 
flitted  through  his  brain  an  incoherent  succession  of  ideas 
unconsidered  because  of  apathy  akin  to  that  which  is  the 
effect  of  a  certain  drug.  From  his  talks  with  Sergeant 
Morgan  afterward,  we  know  that  the  death  of  Barney 
had  almost  unsettled  the  old  man ;  in  a  dazed  condition 
he  was  living  moment  by  moment,  with  his  own  future 
a  thing  that  gave  him  no  interest.  True,  there  were 
times  when  his  thought  of  Barney  joined  fast  hold  upon 
thought  of  Dr.  Lacy;  but  these  times  were  as  brief  as 
those  moments  when  he  thought  of  the  rain,  or  of  the 
wet  earth,  or  of  aught  else  too  trivial  to  continue.  In- 
stinct alone  upheld  him,  the  instinct  of  loyalty ;  he  had 
promised;  he  must  keep  his  promise,  for  Mahs  Dan, 
this  other  Mahs  Dan,  was  one  of  his  people  —  the  only 
one  who  could  now  receive  his  service.  Even  while  he 
heard  shots  from  the  advancing  skirmishers,  and  heard 
the  answering  volleys  of  the  Confederates,  the  old  man 


410  OLD  SQUIRE 

sank  to  sleep ;  and  when  he  awoke  he  found  Dahlgren's 
command  about  him,  reorganizing  for  further  march,  and 
Morgan  standing  over  him  in  the  rain. 

How  Junior  got  through  that  night  he  never  knew. 
Gusts  of  wind  tore  through  the  woods.  The  rain,  the 
snow,  the  sleet,  the  darkness,  the  straggling,  disheartened 
column,  the  impress  of  defeat,  the  almost  certainty  of 
capture,  were  confused  into  one  overwhelming  horror 
against  which  naught  save  the  influence  of  discipline 
might  furnish  a  rally  ing-point  for  resistance.  Dead  and 
wounded  abandoned,  the  knowledge  that  Kilpatrick's  divi- 
sion had  marched  away  after  dismal  failure  to  effect 
more  than  a  panic  of  citizens ;  the  sixty — perhaps  a  hun- 
dred— miles  to  march  if  safety  should  ever  be  reached, 
the  swollen  rivers  to  cross  where  elated  enemies  must 
be  met ;  the  stumbling  horses,  the  silent  riders,  the  pain, 
the  torture,  the  ignominy  —  all  these,  who  shall  tell  ? 

About  midnight  Dahlgren  reached  Hungary  Station, 
eight  miles  north  of  Richmond.  The  column  closed. 
The  column  ?  There  were  but  a  hundred  men  ;  where 
were  the  four  hundred  ? 

The  colonel  and  his  few  remaining  officers  held  a  con- 
sultation. It  was  clear  that  Captain  Mitchell,  at  the 
head  of  the  detachment  of  the  Second  New  York,  had 
been  unable  to  follow  in  the  darkness;  four  hundred 
men  had  turned  off  upon  some  other  road,  to  the  right, 
or  left,  who  could  say? 

It  was  agreed  that  to  wait  would  be  too  hazardous. 
The  next  thing  to  decide  was  the  best  route  into  safety. 
Dahlgren  laid  before  the  little  council  all  that  was  known, 


WHERE  GLORY  LED  411 

especially  the  fact  that  General  Butler,  near  Yorktown, 
had  been  ordered  to  send  a  force  toward  Richmond  for 
the  support  of  Kilpatrick,  and  the  opinion  that  Kilpat- 
rick's  division,  with  the  enemy  following,  had  marched 
eastward  to  meet  the  force  of  Butler's.  Only  three 
courses  were  possible  to  consider:  first,  to  march  back 
nearly  in  the  way  they  had  come  ;  second,  to  endeavour 
to  reach  Kilpatrick  by  marching  down  the  peninsula 
toward  Yorktown  ;  third,  to  make  across  the  Pamunkey 
and  Mattapony  rivers  and  move  down  to  Gloucester 
Point  opposite  Yorktown. 

Of  these  propositions  Morgan  gave  his  voice  for  the 
second  ;  and  urged  his  reasons  with  force.  He  contended 
that  the  first  was  in  reality  outside  of  consideration. 
Stuart's  cavalry  were  now  alert,  and  every  ford  of  every 
river  would  be  guarded ;  the  command  would  be  captured 
long  before  the  Rapidan  could  be  reached ;  the  third  plan 
involved  a  journey  almost  impossible  even  if  no  enemy 
should  intervene  in  their  front ;  the  least  hope  to  outstrip 
their  pursuers  in  a  march  of  eighty  miles,  their  own 
horses  already  weakened,  was  too  great;  besides,  they 
must  make  their  way  across  two  rivers  at  either  of  which 
they  might  easily  be  arrested ;  the  second  course  offered 
a  possibility,  in  that,  once  escaping  the  enemy  who  were 
supposed  to  hang  upon  Kilpatrick's  rear,  an  enemy  not 
sufficiently  strong  to  block  all  the  roads,  safety  would  be 
found  within  a  single  day. 

The  final  decision  was  made  :  they  must  attempt  to 
reach  Gloucester  Point ;  the  column  was  again  in  motion. 

Now  Morgan  called  the  negro  to  his  side,  and  said, 


412  OLD  SQUIRE 

u  Uncle  Squire,  we  have  a  long  march  to  make,  and  I'm 
going  to  bid  you  good-by.  You  can  easily  get  back  to 
your  people,  and  I'll  keep  you  no  longer.  Good-by, 
Uncle  Squire." 

The  negro's  face  was  invisible,  and  Junior  could  per- 
ceive no  change  in  ^his  tones ;  perhaps  he  had  already 
become  utterly  indifferent  to  his  own  fate ;  he  answered, 
"No,  Mahs  Dan,  I  gwine  to  stay  wid  ju;  I  ain't  got 
nobody  no  mo'e  to  stay  wid  but  shu  ;  an'  I  gwine  to  stay 
tell  I  can't  stay  no  mo'e."  And  Morgan  wrung  the 
slave's  hand  and  prayed  God  to  bless  him,  for  he  knew 
that  Squire  believed  all  the  Federals  would  soon  be  in 
prison,  yet  was  determined  to  be  faithful  until  the  final 
disaster  should  separate  them. 

Soon  after  the  column  had  crossed  the  Chickahominy  a 
train  of  ambulances  was  met,  the  Federal  wounded  of  Kil- 
patrick's  division  being  taken  to  Richmond,  and  from 
these  men  Dahlgren  learned  definitely  that  Kilpatrick, 
attacked  by  a  body  of  Stuart's  cavalry  under  Hampton, 
had  retreated  eastward,  making  down  the  Peninsula. 

At  dawn  the  column  approached  the  Pamunkey,  and  now, 
if  they  had  but  turned  down  the  river  road  they  would 
soon  have  found  Kilpatrick,  who  waited  for  them  until 
one  o'clock  that  day  at  Old  Church.  Instead,  Dahlgren 
led  on  to  the  river ;  here  the  ferry-boat  could  be  seen  on 
the  opposite  side,  and  adventurous  men  soon  swam  the 
river  and  brought  it  over.  Meanwhile  the  precious  rest 
of  two  or  three  hours  was  had,  it  requiring  until  eleven 
o'clock  to  complete  the  crossing. 

From   this  time  Dahlgren  felt  no  fear  of   immediate 


WHERE   GLORY  LED  413 

pursuit  by  the  force  that  had  attacked  Kilpatrick ;  yet 
he  had  come  upon  ground  no  less  perilous :  from  the 
Pamurikey  at  Hanovertown  Ferry  onward  to  the  Matta- 
pony  at  Aylett's  he  encountered  small  irregular  bodies  of 
the  enemy,  f urloughed  men  who  had  got  together  at  the 
news  of  the  Yankees,  and  endeavoured  to  delay  their 
march ;  and  when,  at  two  o'clock,  the  Mattapony  had  been 
crossed,  the  dangers  grew  until  disaster  became  inevitable. 
The  road,  it  is  true,  turned  down  the  river,  but  this  was 
the  country  of  home  guards,  and  the  picketing  ground 
of  small  outlying  detachments  of  Stuart's  cavalry,  while 
Gloucester  Point  was  yet  fifty  miles  distant.  If  Dahlgren 
had  now  had  his  five  hundred  men,  he  could  have  over- 
ridden all  these  foes,  but  his  command  had  dwindled  to 
seventy  men  fit  for  service,  and  their  cartridges  were 
almost  gone.  At  six  o'clock  another  halt  became  horribly 
necessary.  Rain  still,  and  cold,  and  greater  weariness; 
the  men  and  horses  must  be  fed.  The  barns  yielded  corn 
to  force  ;  the  men  made  fires  and  cooked  ;  the  horses 
fed  ;  a  hundred  contrabands  in  the  rear  rejoiced  in  the 
prospect  of  freedom.  But  meanwhile  swift  riders  were 
carrying  tidings  to  Captain  Bagby  of  the  home  guards,  to 
Captain  Todd  of  the  home  guards,  to  Lieutenant  Pollard 
of  the  Ninth  Virginia,  on  detached  service,  to  Captain 
Magruder,  to  Captain  Fox,  to  every  furloughed  man  and 
every  home  guard  within  reach. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  column  moved  on,  but  moved  not  far. 
From  the  rear  came  discharges  from  carbines,  from  shot- 
guns, from  muskets,  scattering  the  negroes,  many  of  whom 
at  once  sought  refuge  in  the  woods  —  nothing  seen  but 


4H  OLD  SQUIRE 

the  wet  road  and  the  flashes  of  a  hundred  guns  to  which 
we  could  make  but  feeble  reply.  A  picket  of  three  men, 
sent  forward  at  the  last  halt,  had  been  seen  no  more, 
and  now  all  knew  that  the  enemy  held  the  ground  in 
front.  Yet  we  moved  on. 

Dahlgren  sent  forward  an  advance  guard  —  only  six 
men  —  and  almost  at  once  rode  to  their  head. 

Then  the  enemy  challenged  from  ambush. 

"  Surrender,  or  we  fire  !  "  cried  Dahlgren. 

In  reply  the  forest  sparkled  with  volleys  from  the 
front. 

The  column  fell  back  in  confusion  ;  and  at  once  a  fire 
was  opened  against  us  on  the  flanks. 

Dahlgren  had  fallen,  pierced  with  five  balls. 

In  great  disorder  the  men  filed  out  of  the  road  into  the 
woods  at  the  right. 

A  guide  who  had  been  pressed  into  service  was  missing ; 
we  knew  he  would  tell  the  enemy  that  our  ammunition 
had  been  exhausted. 

The  men,  helpless,  lay  on  the  ground  in  a  small  field  at 
the  south  of  the  road.  All  hope  had  long  since  gone. 

Officers  counselled  the  disbanding  of  the  force.  All 
around,  except  on  the  side  next  the  river,  the  lights  of 
fires  began  to  show  in  the  woods  —  our  enemies  would 
wait  till  the  morning  to  give  the  finishing  stroke. 

Men  began  to  steal  away  afoot ;  they  would  try  to  slip 
between  the  fires,  thoughtless  of  the  pickets  intervening. 
Groups  went.  The  officer  now  in  command,  Major  Cooke, 
ordered  all  to  destroy  their  arms  —  except  pistols. 

Morgan  felt  a  hand  laid  on  his  arm.    "  Mahs  Dan,  dey's 


WHERE  GLORY   LED  415 

all  a-gwyin'  to  go  —  all  'scusin'  dem  w'at's  done  broke 
down." 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Squire,  I  must  try  it  too." 

•l  Yassah  ;  w'ich  a-way  izh  you  gwine,  sah  ?  " 

"  Lord,  I  don't  know  ;  just  risk  it  as  the  others  through 
the  woods  ;  but  I  wish  to  God  I  could  get  across  the 
river." 

"Yassah,  dat's  de  bes'  way  ;  you  come  along  wi'  me,  Mahs 
Dan,  an'  ef  we  can't  git  acrawst,  we  kin  a'most,  —  least- 
ways ef  de  good  Lawd  '11  dess  be  on  ouah  side  dess  one 
mo'e  time." 

Morgan  was  astounded  at  the  offer  ;  he  knew  that  this 
negro  must  leave  his  possessions,  and  must  endure  hard- 
ship after  hardship.  He  pressed  the  slave's  hand. 

"  Mahs  Dan,  I  got  a  whole  lot  o'  bread  jit,  an'  I  'spec' 
we  not  a-gwine  to  git  no  mo'e  soon.  You  kin  put  awn 
one  o'  dezhe  heah  havehsacks,  an'  I  kin  tote  two,  an'  we  kin 
dess  let  all  de  res'  go  ;  an'  you  betteh  save  yo'  whiskey." 

Morgan  gladly  assented  ;  he  believed  that  to  recross  the 
river  would  be  to  find  comparative  safety  ;  true,  the 
Pamunkey  also  must  be  crossed,  but  its  banks  would  not 
be  lined  with  pickets,  and  time  would  be  had  in  which  to 
secure  a  boat,  perhaps  ;  the  Mattapony  was  the  trouble, 
for  only  half  a  mile  of  its  steep  banks  was  accessible 
because  of  enemies  in  front  and  rear. 

"  Tek  yo'  picket  rope  along,  Mahs  Dan,  an'  yo'  reins,  an' 
all  yo'  straps  ;  I  'spec'  we  gwine  to  need  'em.  Ef  you 
can't  swim,  Mahs  Dan,  we  got  to  mek  a  mighty  big  raf, 
leastways  ef  we  can't  fin'  no  boat,  an'  I  don't  'spec'  we 
kin." 


416  OLD  SQUIRE 

"  Swim  like  a  duck,  Uncle  Squire." 

It  was  past  midnight ;  the  dense  darkness  was  in  their 
favour  in  one  respect,  against  them  in  others.  Squire  led 
to  the  right,  Morgan  close  behind  ;  and  now  Junior  was 
surprised  at  his  own  strength.  Riding,  he  had  felt 
exhausted  ;  walking  seemed  a  relief  ;  perhaps  the  excite- 
ment due  to  this  individual  enterprise  had  given  him 
stimulus. 

At  last  they  stood  near  the  river  —  a  black,  indefinite 
chasm.  They  dared  speak  only  in  whispers. 

"  You  seddown,  Mahs  Dan,  an'  stay  right  sheah  tell  I 
git  back  ag'in,"  and  now  Junior  was  alone. 

The  sound  of  a  shot  broke  the  silence  in  his  rear,  per- 
haps fired  at  some  Federal  stealing  between  the  enemy's 
pickets. 

Morgan's  hope  of  success  was  small  ;  the  river  could  be 
crossed,  yet  he  saw  not  how  to  prevent  freezing  in  his 
wet  clothes  when  he  should  reach  the  southern  bank. 
Squire  was  resourceful,  but  how  could  he  make  a  raft  suf- 
ficient to  uphold  their  effects  ?  How,  even,  could  they 
descend  this  steep  bluff  ? 

But  Squire  returned  and  bade  him  follow;  Morgan  felt 
himself  going  down  a  gentle  slope,  and  soon  was  in  the 
midst  of  bushes. 

"  Got  to  be  mighty  sly  now,  Mahs  Dan,"  said  the 
slave ;  "  dey's  mighty  clost  by.  We's  a-gwine  down  to 
de  mouf  o'  dis  creek,  an'  den  we  kin  land  in  de  ribeh." 

It  was  a  short  but  toilsome  stage  ;  through  brush  and 
brier  they  crept  on  slowly,  at  every  yard  or  two  stum- 
bling over  some  log  or  rail  which  the  back-waters  of  the 


WHERE  GLORY   LED  417 

last  freshet  had  stranded  ;  and  at  every  such  obstacle  the 
negro  gave  a  grunt  of  satisfaction,  which  Morgan  was  not 
long  in  construing. 

At  the  mouth  of  the  creek  the  negro  again  bade  the 
lieutenant  remain,  and  soon  he  could  be  heard  dragging 
some  heavy  thing  about.  Morgan  insisted  on  helping  ; 
but  Squire,  with  obvious  hypocrisy,  asserted  that  one 
must  hold  the  point  gained,  in  order  to  signal  the  worker 
back  to  the  spot.  Yet  the  old  man  seemed  to  work  in  the 
darkness  by  instinct,  and  in  half  an  hour  had  dragged  to 
the  place  a  collection  of  old  timbers  that  he  pronounced 
sufficient. 

The  raft  must  be  made  in  the  water  ;  Squire  stripped, 
and  Morgan  helped  the  negro,  now  in  the  creek.  With 
the  picket  ropes  they  succeeded  in  lashing  together  two 
stout  timbers  of  unequal  length,  and  upon  them  crosswise 
three  pieces  of  rails  ;  on  the  top  of  these  they  tied  half  a 
dozen  longer  rails  parallel  with  the  base.  But  before  this 
top  layer  had  been  fixed,  Morgan  was  naked  and  in  the 
cold  water. 

At  length  they  tied  their  clothing,  blankets,  and  haver- 
sacks, and  fastened  them  to  the  floor  of  the  raft ;  then 
they  dropped  into  the  creek  and  pushed  their  ramshackle 
craft  out  into  the  main  stream,  side  by  side,  each  swim- 
ming with  one  hand  on  a  stringer. 

They  landed  on  the  south  bank,  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
below,  without  accident,  and,  but  for  the  cold,  without 
great  suffering.  Lest  it  be  detected  at  daylight,  and  pur- 
suit begun,  Squire  demolished  his  raft  and  pushed  the 
several  parts  down  the  stream ;  and  when  each  had  taken 
la 


418  OLD  SQUIRE 

a  great  draught  of  whiskey,  and  had  got  his  clothes  on, 
the  adventure  seemed  little  perilous. 

A  rapid  walk  through  woods  and  fields  quickly  warmed 
them  ;  then,  ignorant  of  the  course  they  were  taking, 
they  slept  until  dawn,  when  Morgan  consulted  his  map, 
and  they  marched  cautiously  south  for  the  Pamunkey. 
He  would  strike  it  below  White  House  ;  it  ought  to  be 
not  more  than  ten  miles  away  ;  they  would  reach  it  in 
the  early  afternoon,  in  ample  time  to  secure  a  boat  before 
the  day  was  gone ;  then,  in  the  darkness,  they  would 
cross,  and  he  had  little  doubt  that  he  should  find  Kil- 
patrick  or  Butler's  forces  near  by.  And  the  result  proved 
that  he  was  correct  in  all  these  opinions. 

******* 

Colonel  Spear,  in  command  of  a  Federal  cavalry  bri- 
gade, had  been  ordered  by  General  Butler  to  march  up 
the  Peninsula  to  the  support  of  Kilpatrick.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  4th  the  brigade  left  camp  at  New  Kent  Court- 
House —  Kilpatrick  having  marched  on  down,  upon  the 
3d,  with  Captain  Mitchell  and  Dahlgren's  four  hundred, 
who  had  overtaken  him  —  and  began  its  return  toward 
Williamsburg,  which  place  it  reached  at  four  o'clock. 

Colonel  Spear  brought  with  him  a  man  whom  he  had 
found  below  New  Kent  —  a  man  seemingly  exhausted, 
and  whom  the  surgeon  at  once  put  to  bed  when  he  was 
brought  on  to  Yorktown.  This  man  said  that  Dahlgren's 
command  had  been  ambushed  near  King  and  Queen  Court- 
House,  and  the  colonel  killed  ;  he  had  been  with  Dahl- 
gren,  and  with  the  help  of  a  negro  had  crossed  two  rivers 
and  made  his  way  into  safety.  The  man  gave  his  name 


WHERE  GLORY  LED  419 

as  Morgan,  and  his  rank  as  lieutenant.  Questioned  by 
Colonel  Spear  as  to  what  had  become  of  the  negro,  Mor- 
gan's answers  were  seemingly  reluctant.  The  negro,  he 
said,  had  seen  the  Federal  cavalry  coming  on  the  road, 
and  had  refused  to  come  farther.  He  did  not  tell  that 
he  had  emptied  his  purse  into  the  negro's  pockets. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

FATE'S  DISCHARGES 

"Speak,  or  thy  silence  on  the  instant  is 
Thy  condemnation  and  thy  death." 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

WHETHER  right  or  wrong,  wise  or  unwise,  no  sooner 
had  Squire  seen  blue  cavalry  coming  than  he  announced 
his  decision  to  go  no  farther  with  the  Federal  lieutenant. 

"Mahs  Dan,  you's  done  got  back  to  yo'  folks,  an'  now 
I's  got  to  git  back  to  mine.  Fah  you  well,  Mahs  Dan. 
An'  ef  you  nuvveh  see  me  no  mo'e  in  dis  wohl',  'membeh 
ole  Squiah." 

Lieutenant  Morgan  was  taken  to  Yorktown,  and  thence 
to  Washington,  where  he  long  lay  ill  of  a  nervous  fever, 
brought  on  —  according  to  Dr.  Lacy  afterward  —  by  ex- 
posure and  mental  distress  ;  his  late  companion,  mean- 
while, made  his  way  back  to  his  master  ;  and  so  great 
was  Squire's  success  on  his  return  journey  that  he 
appeared  in  camp  without  having  been  missed,  Stuart's 
men  having  themselves  been  out  for  a  full  week  engaged 
in  provident  blocking  of  the  fords  lest  Kilpatrick's  col- 
umn return  through  Spottsylvania  ;  and  Squire's  horse, 
which  he  had  purchased  from  a  farmer  with  part  of  the 

420 


FATE'S  DISCHARGES  421 

money  Junior  had  given  him,  was  almost  the  only  palpa- 
ble evidence  of  what  the  negro  had  undergone. 

******* 

On  the  4th  of  May  General  Grant's  army  crossed  the 
Rapidan  and  marched  into  The  Wilderness. 

At  this  time  Andrew  Morgan  was  still  in  Washington, 
and  Jennie  West  was  expecting  him  to  come  for  her,  her 
father's  opposition  to  their  marriage  having  been  com- 
pletely conquered  a  month  before  by  the  return  of  Usher, 
exchanged  through  Junior's  efforts.  Lacy  had  found 
time  to  devote  to  his  old  patient,  and  had  demanded  that 
Morgan  should  never  reenter  service.  The  marriage 
would  take  place  on  Wednesday,  the  llth. 

On  the  4th  of  May,  while  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
was  crossing  the  Rapidan,  Sergeant  Morgan  and  his 
friends  at  the  head  of  their  brigade,  with  old  Squire  and 
other  camp  servants  in  its  rear,  were  riding  from  Orange 
Court-House  toward  The  Wilderness  ;  and  Captain  Free- 
man, now  recovered  from  his  wound,  was  riding  at  the 
head  of  his  company  on  Grant's  flank. 

While  Grant's  and  Lee's  infantry  were  wrestling  in  the 
dark  thickets,  the  cavalry  on  the  south  were  frequently 
in  close  contact  ;  where  an  opening  was  found,  road  or 
field,  there  the  horsemen  would  meet  —  on  either  flank  a 
line  of  dismounted  men  in  the  bushes.  In  this  road  or 
field,  for  a  while,  the  Confederates  would  gain  ground  ; 
in  that,  for  a  while,  the  Union  troops  would  win  advan- 
tage ;  and  each  side  would  eagerly  strive  to  make  pris- 
oners that  through  close  questioning  definite  knowledge 
might  be  gained  of  forces  opposite.  Many  of  these 


422  OLD  SQUIRE 

combats  had  no  seeming  connection  with  each  other,  and 
all  of  them  but  little  result  except  to  increase  the  number 
of  the  dead.  Yet,  with  it  all,  Stuart's  main  purpose  — 
to  work  around  Grant's  flank  and  block  the  roads  to  the 
south  —  was  successful,  his  lines  working  on  and  on  until 
his  force  at  the  critical  moment  held  Spottsylvania  Court- 
House  and  prevented  the  capture  of  this  strong  position 
where  Lee  withstood  Grant  from  the  9th  until  the  20th 
of  May. 

In  one  of  these  many  unnamed  skirmishes,  Freeman's 
command  had  driven  its  opponents  back  upon  a  narrow 
road  for  more  than  a  mile.  The  forces  contending  were 
about  equally  small,  but  Freeman's  men  had  been  armed 
recently  with  the  terrible  Spencer  repeating  carbine,  and 
no  enemy  twice  their  number  could  stand  their  eight  vol- 
leys to  one.  And  Freeman,  on  this  day,  was  trying  to  do 
his  best. 

At  length,  in  one  headlong  run,  the  Federal  advance, 
outstripping  its  main  body  far,  had  galloped  to  the  edge 
of  a  little  bivouac  from  which  the  camp  followers  of  the 
rebels  had  just  retreated.  Firing  continued  ;  dead  and 
wounded  began  to  fall  on  both  sides,  for  here  the  enemy 
had  made  their  strong  rally  ;  but  as  his  company  came  up 
in  force,  Freeman  again  ordered  the  charge,  and  his  men, 
with  a  great  shout  and  a  last  loud  emptying  of  guns, 
drove  like  a  storm  into  the  little  encampment. 

******* 

A  riderless  horse  had  rushed  away  ;  a  soldier  lay  upon 
the  ground  in  a  dense  thicket,  a  negro  kneeling  over  him. 

"  Izh  you  huht  bad,  Mahs  Dan  ?  " 


FATE'S  DISCHARGES  423 

The  voice  was  a  whisper,  for  the  conquering  Federals 
were  close  at  hand;  their  shouts  were  easily  heard,  and 
even  the  stamping  of  their  horses. 

To  Squire's  speech  Morgan  made  no  answer.  The  negro 
bent  lower ;  he  drew  a  knife  from  his  pocket  and  cut  the 
soldier's  canteen  straps ;  then  he  sprinkled  water  on  the 
face  of  the  wounded  man,  who  soon  opened  his  eyes. 

"  Izh  you  huht  bad,  Mahs  Dan  ?  " 

Morgan  raised  his  left  hand,  and  muttered,  "  Turn  me 
over." 

The  old  man  succeeded  in  obeying,  and  now  saw  the 
right  arm  bent  at  a  horrible  angle  above  the  elbow. 
Squire  rose  to  his  feet;  he  must  seek  help. 

Shots  were  yet  coming  from  both  sides.  Freeman  held 
the  bivouac,  but  the  negro  knew  it  not. 

"Squire,"  said  Morgan,  the  voice  feeble,  yet  reaching 
the  negro's  ear.  Again  Squire  bent. 

"  You  must  get  help  .  .  .  but  be  very  careful ;  don't 
show  yourself  until  you  know  that  you're  right  .  .  .  you 
may  run  into  the  Yankees  anywhere  in  these  woods." 

"  Yassah,  I  sho'  gwine  to  be  sho'  befo'e  I  go  up  to  'em. 
Izh  you  huht  bad,  Mahs  Dan?  " 

"The  arm  —  I  suppose  I  must  lose  it.  But,  Squire, 
you  must  not  let  the  Yankees  see  you.  I'd  rather  lie 
here  for  days  than  go  to  prison.  Be  very  slow  and 
careful." 

"  Yassah,"  and  the  negro  went,  going,  as  he  supposed, 
toward  the  rear  of  his  bivouac.  Instead,  he  ran  into  the 
ranks  of  men,  who,  too  late,  he  saw  were  clothed  in  blue. 

Too  late,  indeed,  for  as  he  rushed  forward  he  had  cried, 


424  OLD  SQUIRE 

"Oh,  Mahsta!  please,  sah,  come  an'  sen'  somebody  to 
git  Mahs  Dan  Mawgin." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  you,  dam  you !  at  your  same  old 
tricks.  Captain  Freeman  !  Captain  Freeman  !  " 

The  words  had  been  shouted  by  Private  Hawley,  who 
had  instantly  recognized  the  old  man,  and  had  urged  out 
of  ranks  and  grasped  him  by  the  collar. 

"  What  is  it,  Hawley  ?  " 

"  That  dam'd  old  Squire,  sir,  begging  your  pardon.  He 
comes  right  out  o'  the  woods,  right  there,  and  wants  us  to 
help  Dan  Morgan  again." 

"  So,  I've  got  you  at  last,  have  I  ?  "  exclaimed  Freeman. 
His  tone  was  very  angry,  and  doubtless  the  slave's  heart 
sank  even  yet  lower  within  him. 

"  Mahsta,  I  ain't  a-doin'  noth'n',  an'  I  ain't  be'n  a-doin' 
noth'n'  but  a-tendin'  to  my  mahsta." 

"  And  where  is  your  master  ?  " 

Squire  was  silent ;  yet  in  a  moment  he  seems  to  have 
conceived  that  speech  was  best. 

"  He  done  dess  now  gawn  back,  Mahsta." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  you're  attending  to  your  master,  and  I 
promise  you  that  I'm  going  to  attend  to  you.  Where  is 
my  horse,  you  scoundrel  ?  " 

Men  were  pressing  around  Hawley,  who,  leaning  for- 
ward in  his  saddle,  still  held  the  negro.  It  was  getting 
dark. 

"  Back  to  your  places  !  "  shouted  Freeman,  sternly. 

"  Just  look  at  his  hands,  Captain  ;  they  are  all  over 
blood." 

Freeman's  orders  to  learn  what  force  was  on  this  road 


FATE'S  DISCHARGES  425 

had  been  imperative ;  his  personal  vengeance  must  give 
way,  at  least  for  a  time. 

"Now,  old  man,  I  know  you.  You  will  answer  my 
questions,  and  truthfully,  or  I'll  have  you  shot.  I'll 
not  take  time  to  hang  you.  I'll  shoot  you  here  in  this 
spot  unless  you  answer  me.  So  help  me  God,  I  will. 
And  you  need  not  think  to  cheat  me.  I  know  you  and 
your  ways.  You  will  tell  me  at  once  whose  troops  are  in 
our  front,  and  you  will  show  me  the  wounded  man  you're 
trying  to  hide.  Quick,  now  I  " 

"  Yassah,  Mahsta  ...  I  tell  you,  sah  ;  hit's  Ginnle 
Stuaht,  an'  hit's  Ginnle  Lee,  Mahsta." 

The  answer  enraged  Freeman.  Certainly  he  knew 
already  that  whatever  force  he  met  was  Lee's ;  certainly 
he  knew  already  that  every  cavalryman  was  Stuart's  ; 
yet  against  combined  ignorance  and  obstinacy  who  can 
prevail  ? 

"  Whose  blood  is  that  ?     Answer  me  at  once." 

Squire  lifted  his  red  palms.  "  Oh,  Mahsta,  dat's  w'at 
I  got  awff'n  a  chicken.  I  was  dess  a-killin'  a  chicken 
right  oveh  dah,  Mahsta,  w'en  you  all  come  up  an'  skeehed 
me  away  in  de  woods." 

At  this  instant  a  terrible  blast  of  cannon,  and  the  thicket 
rattled  with  canister  shot. 

"  Dismount  and  form  I "  shouted  Freeman.  He  had 
turned  his  head  and  was  now  giving  orders  to  construct  a 
barricade  across  the  road,  and  to  the  men  to  withhold 
their  fire.  Hawley  yet  held  the  negro  ;  he  was  leaning 
over,  still  in  the  saddle,  his  hand  clutching  Squire's  collar. 

And  then  there  came  to  the  poor   trembling   slave   a 


426  OLD  SQUIRE 

wonderful  deliverance  .  .  .  Hawley's  hold  relaxed,  and  at 
the  same  second  of  time  the  repeated  detonation  of  artil- 
lery shook  the  woods  ;  at  the  next  instant  the  cavalry- 
man was  falling,  and  Freeman's  horse,  frantic  with  pain, 
was  rushing  away  heedless  of  his  rider. 

Squire's  wonder  at  Hawley's  releasing  him  lasted  but  a 
moment ;  before  the  man  had  begun  to  fall,  he  knew  by 
the  bursting  shell  what  had  happened,  and  he  had  lightly 
stepped  aside,  and  then  had  thrown  himself  down  by  the 
now  prostrate  soldier  ;  a  moment  more  and  he  was  crawl- 
ing through  the  thicket  in  the  darkness. 

Two  hours  later,  the  Federals  having  retired,  he  guided 
men  to  the  spot  where  he  had  left  Sergeant  Morgan  ;  and 
before  sunrise  of  the  next  day  that  brave  soldier  had  been 
compelled  to  submit  to  the  loss  of  his  sword-arm. 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

NO  GREATER  LOVE 

"  Bring  me  an  axe  and  spade, 

Bring  me  a  winding-sheet.  ..." 

—  BLAKE. 

SHERIDAN,  with  ten  thousand  men,  rode  around  Lee's 
right  flank  and  marched  upon  Richmond.  Stuart  fol- 
lowed, and  with  three  small  brigades  met  the  Federal 
cavalry  at  Yellow  Tavern  some  seven  miles  out  from  the 
Capital. 

It  was  the  llth  of  May,  Wednesday.  Jennie  West  was 
married  on  this  day,  and  on  this  day  Sheridan  marched 
from  Ashland  upon  Stuart,  who  faced  northwest,  his  line 
across  the  road  to  Richmond.  From  eleven  o'clock  until 
four  little  impression  was  made  upon  the  Confederate 
lines,  —  the  brigade  of  Wickham  on  the  right,  that  of 
Lomax  on  the  left,  with  a  reserve  of  but  part  of  one  regi- 
ment—  the  First  Virginia. 

Stuart's  extreme  left  was  west  of  the  road,  two  guns  in 
the  road,  another  upon  a  hill  farther  toward  the  flank. 

At  four  o'clock  Sheridan  engaged  the  whole  of  Stuart's 
line,  and  at  the  same  time  threw  forward  Custer's  brigade 
to  charge  the  guns  on  the  Confederate  left. 

427 


428  OLD  SQUIRE 

At  this  time  General  Stuart  was  with  his  right  wing, 
half  a  mile  away  or  more,  but  the  speedy  report  coming 
that  mounted  cavalry  were  threatening  his  guns,  he  rode 
southward  in  all  haste. 

Ouster's  charge  was  led  by  the  First  Michigan,  Major 
Howrigan  at  the  head  of  the  leading  squadron. 

The  Confederates,  closely  engaged  along  the  entire  line, 
held  to  their  work  at  every  point,  until  Howrigan  rode 
over  the  two  cannon  on  the  pike,  capturing  guns  and 
gunners,  cutting  off  Stuart's  left,  and  threatening  the 
destruction  of  the  whole  Confederate  line. 

Now  Stuart  stormed  up,  crying  aloud  to  his  men  to 
rally. 

Yet  the  guns  had  been  lost  beyond  recovery.  A  great 
gap  was  in  the  line,  and  into  the  gap,  and  on,  following  the 
scattered  Confederates,  the  Fifth  Michigan  advanced. 

Meanwhile,  all  the  right  was  holding,  and  at  the  left  of 
the  captured  guns  still  stood  some  small  companies  firing 
into  the  flank  and  rear  of  the  Federals  that  had  moved 
through  the  gap  —  and  with  these  few  men  Stuart  held, 
in  the  last  effort  of  his  life. 

The  Michigan  regiments,  pouring  through  the  gap, 
were  met  by  the  First  Virginia. 

Now  the  battle  raged  along  the  right  where  the  rebel 
lines  were  yet  unbroken,  and  all  about  the  isolated  left 
where  Stuart  was,  and  behind  this  hill,  where  the  First 
was  charging. 

Stuart's  old  regiment,  on  that  day,  fought  not  only  its 
last  fight  under  the  eye  of  its  first  commander,  but  it 
fought  for  his  safety  from  capture,  and  its  efforts  were 


NO  GREATER  LOVE  429 

equal  to  the  crisis,  —  the  enemy  were  thrown  back,  and 
Stuart's  person  was  saved  :  yet  even  as  the  Michigan 
men  were  retiring,  their  fire,  directed  at  Stuart's  group, 
wounded  the  general  to  the  death. 

The  First  Virginia  was  already  in  disorder  from  its 
charge  ;  its  success  had  been  but  partial,  but  momentary ; 
already  the  ground  was  spotted  with  its  best. 

On  that  little  hill  the  bloody  wave  again  flowed  back, 
and  the  Federals  held  all  the  line  from  which  Stuart's  left 
had  been  driven,  and  the  Confederates  were  forced  to  form 
a  new  line  of  the  left  wing,  resting  at  an  angle  upon  the 
yet  unbroken  right. 

Now  the  balls  from  both  sides  swept  the  hill  between 
the  lines,  where  lay  blue  men  and  gray  men,  and  horses 
of  both. 

******* 

The  sun  was  setting.  Gloom  and  anger,  defeat  and 
grief,  upon  the  faces  of  the  Virginians.  Their  sun  was 
setting.  Stuart  had  been  placed  in  an  ambulance,  and 
had  been  driven  toward  Richmond  ;  men  said  in  whispers 
that  he  had  fought  his  last  battle. 

Joe  Lewis  had  not  been  injured  ;  back  at  the  rear  he 
found  old  Squire,  busy  over  his  cooking,  near  the  line  of 
horse-holders. 

"  Mahs  Joe,"  said  Squire,  nervously,  "  how  come  you 
don't  stay  wi'  Mahs  Chahley  ?  " 

The  negro  had  risen  ;  his  hands  were  clasped  together  ; 
perhaps  he  read  Joe  Lewis's  face. 

"  Squire,  I'm  afeared  that  George  and  Charley  are  both 
of  'em  down.  Fact  is,  I  know  they're  down,  and  I'm 


430  OLD  SQUIRE 

a-thinkin'  we  can't  keep  the  Yanks  from  gittin'  'em  ;  but 
I'm  a-hopin'  neither  one  ain't  got  it  hard." 

"  Oh,  Mahs  Joe,  tell  me  whah  Mahs  Chahley  is.  Tell 
me  whah  dey  is." 

44  Out  in  front  between  the  lines  —  out  at  the  left  front. 
I  got  to  go  on,  Squire ;  jest  got  to  go  on  and  git  cartridges 

for  the  company." 

#****** 

They  had  fallen  almost  together,  there  on  the  little 
hill  over  which  from  both  directions  the  bullets  were 
flying. 

Sency  recovered  some  strength  ;  yet  when  he  tried  to 
walk  he  found  he  could  not ;  any  motion  was  with  great 
anguish.  He  sat  up,  and  saw  riderless  horses  rushing 
through  smoke  and  dust,  and  off  at  the  left  heard  a  great 
mutter  of  hoof -beats,  which  sound  swelled  out  louder,  and 
he  lay  flat  again  as  a  regiment  of  horsemen  charged  over 
the  hill. 

******* 

Sency  again  tried  to  reach  Armstrong,  and  at  length 
succeeded.  What  he  has  told  of  that  night's  horror  has 
been  little  ;  he  seemed  always  to  shun  its  remembrance. 

But  we  know  that  still  there  was  fighting  —  even  until 
dark  had  set  in,  the  Federals  making  partial  attacks  and 
being  repulsed,  until  in  one  combined  assault  they  drove 
the  Confederates  from  all  their  new  position  ;  and  that  at 
eleven  o'clock  Sheridan  marched  away  from  that  field  of 
victory  and  death. 

While  the  bullets  were  flying  both  ways,  about  night- 
fall, Sency  heard  a  cry,  and  answered  as  best  he  might 


NO  GREATER  LOVE  431 

—  a  cry  and  an  answer  not  for  him  who  answered,  but 
for  him  who  could  not. 

And  then  Sency  became  aware  that  a  negro  had  come. 

The  bullets  were  flying  both  ways. 

Perhaps  George  Sency  became  unconscious  for  a  while  ; 
he  tells  us  nothing  of  detail  .  .  .  the  bullets  were  flying 
both  ways. 

******* 

At  dawn  four  men  came.  They  lifted  Sency  to  a 
stretcher  and  bore  him  away. 

******* 

At  sunrise  came  other  men,  but  these  bore  no  one 
away.  They  buried  the  soldier,  and  another  body  at  the 
soldier's  feet.  And  then  Joe  Lewis  stood  alone,  weeping 
bitterly. 


NEW  POPULAR  EDITIONS  OF 


TO  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD 

It  was  something  new  and  startling  to  see  an  au- 
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sands, as  did  this  one.  The  ablest  critics  spoke  of 
it  in  such  terms  as  "  Breathless  interest,"  The  high 
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der and  delicate,"  "  As  good  a  story  of  adventure  as 
one  can  find,"  "  The  best  style  of  love  story,  clean, 
pure  and  wholesome." 
AUDREY 

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of  adventure.  Indeed  it  would  be  impossible  to 
carry  the  romantic  spirit  any  deeper  into  fiction.— 
Agnes  Repplier* 

PRISONERS  OF  HOPE 

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BEVERLY  OF  GRAUSTARK.  By  George  Barr  McCut- 
cheon.  With  Color  Frontispiece  and  other  illustrations 
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as  '  Graustark '  and  quite  as  entertaining." — Bookman.  "  A  charm- 
ing love  story  well  told." — Boston  Transcript, 

HALF  A  ROGUE.    By  Harold  MacGrath.     With  illustra- 
tions and  inlay  cover  picture  by  Harrison  Fisher. 
"  Here  are  dexterity  of  plot,  glancing  play  at  witty  talk,  characters 
really  human  and  humanly  real,  spirit  and  gladness,  freshness  and 
quick  movement.    '  Half  a  Rogue  '  is  as  brisk  as  a  horseback  ride  on 
a  glorious  morning.   It  is  as  varied  as  an  April  day.   It  is  as  charming 
as  two  most  charming  girls  can  make  it.      Love  and  honor  and  suc- 
cess and  all  the  great  things  worth  fighting  for  and  living  for  the  in- 
volved in  '  Half  a  Rogue.'  " — Phila.  Press. 

THE  GIRL  FROM  TIM'S   PLACE.     By   Charles   Clark 

Munn.  With  illustrations  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 
"  Figuring  in  the  pages  of  this  story  there  are  several  strong  char- 
acters. Typical  New  England  folk  and  an  especially  sturdy  one,  old 
Cy  Walker,  through  whose  instrumentality  Chip  comes  to  happiness 
and  fortune.  There  is  a  chain  of  comedy,  tragedy,  pathos  and  love, 
which  makes  a  dramatic  story."— Boston  Herald. 

THE  LION  AND  THE  MOUSE.    A  story  of  American  Life. 
By  Charles  Klein,  and  Arthur  Hornblow.      With  illustra- 
tions by  Stuart  Travis,  and  Scenes  from  the  Play. 
The  novel  duplicated  the  success  of  the  play;  in  fact  the  book  is 
greater  than  the  play.    A  portentous  clash  of  dominant  personalties 
that  form  the  essence  of  the  play  are  necessarily  touched  upon  but 
briefly  in  the  short  space  of  four  acts.     All  this  is  narrated  in  the 
novel  with  a  wealth  of  fascinating  and  absorbing  detail,  making  it  one 
of  the  most  powerfully  written  and  exciting  works  of  fiction  given  to 
the  world  in  years. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  -  NEW  YORK 


FAMOUS  COPYRIGHT  BOOKS 
IN    POPULAR    PRICED  EDITIONS 

Re-Usues  of  the  great  literary  successes  of  the  time.  Library 
size.  Printed  on  excellent  paper — most  of  them  with  illustra- 
tions of  marked  beauty — and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth. 
Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid. 

BARBARA    WINSLOW,    REBEL.     By  Elizabeth  Ellis. 

With  illustrations  by  John  Rae,  and  colored  inlay  cover. 
The  following,  taken  from  story,  will  best  describe  the  heroine : 
A  TOAST:  " To  the  bravest  comrade  in  misfortune,  the  sweetest 
companion  in  peace  and  at  all  times  the  most  courageous  of  women." 
— Barbara  Winslow.  "  A  romantic  story,  buoyant,  eventful,  and  in 
matters  of  love  exactly  what  the  heart  could  desire.  "—New  York  Sun. 

SUSAN.    By  Ernest  Oldmeadow.    With  a  color  frontispiece 

by  Frank  Haviland.  Medalion  in  color  on  front  cover. 
Lord  Ruddington  falls  helplessly  in  love  with  Miss  Langley,  whom 
he  sees  in  one  of  her  walks  accompanied  by  her  maid,  Susan. 
Through  a  misapprehension  of  personalities  his  lordship  addresses 
a  love  missive  to  the  maid.  Susan  accepts  in  perfect  good  faith, 
and  an  epistolary  love-making  goes  on  till  they  are  disillusioned.  It 
naturally  makes  a  droll  and  delightful  little  comedy ;  and  is  a  story 
that  is  particularly  clever  in  the  telling. 

WHEN  PATTY  WENT  TO  COLLEGE.    By  Jean  Web- 

ster.  With  illustrations  by  C.  D.  Williams. 
"The  book  is  a  treasure."—  Chicago  Daily  News.  "Bright, 
whimsical,  and  thoroughly  entertaining. " — Buffalo  Express.  "  One 
of  the  best  stories  of  life  in  a  girl's  college  that  has  ever  been  writ- 
ten."— N.  Y.  Press.  "  To  any  woman  who  has  enjoyed  the  pleasures 
of  a  college  life  this  book  cannot  fail  to  bring  back  many  sweet  recol- 
lections ;  and  to  those  who  have  not  been  to  college  the  wit,  lightness, 
and  charm  of  Patty  are  sure  to  be  no  less  delightful.  "—Public  Opinion. 

THE  MASQUE  RADER.     By  Katherine  Cecil  Thurston. 

With  illustrations  by  Clarence  F.  Underwood. 
"  You  can't  drop  it  till  you  have  turned  the  last  page." — Cleveland 
Leader.  "  Its  very  audacity  of  motive,  of  execution,  of  solution,  al- 
most takes  one's  breath  away.  The  boldness  of  its  denouement 
is  sublime." — Boston  Transcript.  "  The  literary  hit  of  a  generation. 
The  best  of  it  is  the  story  deserves  all  its  success.  A  masterly  story." 
— St.  Louis  Dispatch.  "  The  story  is  ingeniously  told,  and  cleverly 
constructed." — The  Dial. 

THE  GAMBLER.    By  Katherine  Cecil  Thurston.     With 

illustrations  by  John  Campbell. 

"  Tells  of  a  high  strung  young  Irish  woman  who  has  a  passion  for 
gambling,  inherited  from  a  long  line  of  sporting  ancestors.  She  has 
a  high  sense  of  honor,  too,  and  that  causes  complications.  She  is  a 
-very  human,  lovable  character,  and  love  saves  ner." — N.  Y.  Times. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,      -      NEW  YORK 


FAMOUS  COPYRIGHT  BOOKS 
IN   POPULAR   PRICED   EDITIONS 

Re-issues  of  the  great  literary  successes  of  the  time.  Library 
size.  Printed  on  excellent  paper — most  of  them  with  illustra- 
tions of  marked  beauty — and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth. 
Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid. 

THE  AFFAIR  AT  THE  INN.    By  Kate  Douglas  Wiggin. 

With  illustrations  by  Martin  Justice. 

"  As  superlatively  clever  in  the  writing  as  it  is  entertaining  in  the 
reading.  It  is  actual  comedy  of  the  most  artistic  sort,  and  it  is 
handled  with  a  freshness  and  originality  that  is  unquestionably 
novel."— Boston  Transcript.  "  A  feast  of  humor  and  good  cheer, 
yet  subtly  pervaded  by  special  shades  of  feeling,  fancy,  tenderness, 
or  whimsicality.  A  merry  thing  in  prose."— St.  Louis  Democrat. 

ROSE  O'  THE  RIVER.    By  Kate  Douglas  Wiggin.    With 

illustrations  by  George  Wright. 

" '  Rose  o'  the  River,'  a  charming  bit  of  sentiment,  gracefully 
written  and  deftly  touched  with  a  gentle  humor.  It  is  a  dainty  book 
—daintily  illustrated." — New  York  Tribune.  "A  wholesome,  bright, 
refreshing  story,  an  ideal  book  to  give  a  young  girl." — Chicago 
Record-Herald.  "  An  idyllic  story,  replete  with  pathos  and  inimita- 
ble humor.  As  story-telling  it  is  perfection,  and  as  portrait-painting 
it  is  true  to  the  \\iQ.-London  Mail. 

TILLIE :    A  Mennonite  Maid.    By  Helen  R.  Martin.    With 

illustrations  by  Florence  Scovel  Shinn. 

The  little  "  Mennonite  Maid  "  who  wanders  through  these  pages 
is  something  quite  new  in  fiction.  Tillie  is  hungry  for  books  and 
beauty  and  love ;  and  she  comes  into  her  inheritance  at  the  end. 
"  Tillie  is  faulty,  sensitive,  big-hearted,  eminently  human,  and  first, 
last  and  always  lovable.  Her  charm  glows  warmly,  the  story  is  well 
handled,  the  characters  skilfully  developed."—  The  Book  Buyer. 

LADY  ROSE'S  DAUGHTER.    By  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward. 

With  illustrations  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy. 
"The  most  marvellous  work  of  its  wonderful  author." — New  York 
World.  "We  touch  regions  and  attain  altitudes  which  it  is  not  given 
to  the  ordinary  novelist  even  to  approach." — London  Times.  "In 
no  other  story  has  Mrs.  Ward  approached  the  brilliancy  and  vivacity 
of  Lady  Rose's  Daughter."—  North  American  Review. 

THE  BANKER  AND  THE  BEAR.  By  Henry  K.  Webster. 
"  An  exciting  and  absorbing  story." — New  York  Times.  "Intense- 
ly thrilling  in  parts,  but  an  unusually  good  story  all  through.  There 
is  a  love  affair  of  real  charm  and  most  novel  surroundings,  there  is  a 
run  on  the  bank  which  is  almost  worth  a  year's  growth,  and  there  is 
all  manner  of  exhilarating  men  and  deeds  which  should  bring  the 
book  into  high  and  permanent  favor."—  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  -  NEW  YORK 


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